^>. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


^g? 


i/j 


IS 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


^1^  liil 
i  1^  |||£ 


1.8 


U    1 1.6 


? 


Photographic 

Sdences 
Corporation 


^ 

^m 


m^ 


4 


^ 


V 


N> 


'% 


y 


^ 


'<^    ^ 

<i^"^  Y  ' 


^ 


6^ 


'^ 


'<*) 


23  WiST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MS80 

(716)  872-4503 


€^, 


C/j 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checiced  below. 


D 


D 
D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


r~~|    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommag^e 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur6e  et/ou  pelllcul6e 


D 

[T7[  Cover  title  missing/ 

1^^    Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue 

Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 

I      I    Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 


I      I    Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


D 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  cculeur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  filmAes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  m6thode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  Indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 


□   Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

□    Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  nndommagdes 

r~n    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


D 
D 


Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  pellicul6es 

Pages  discoloured,  stainad  or  foxei 
Pages  ddcoior^es,  tachet6es  ou  piquies 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tachdes 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quaiitd  in^gale  de  i'impression 

Includes  supplementary  materit 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppi^mentaire 


I  I  Pages  discoloured,  stainad  or  foxed/ 

I  I  Pages  detached/ 

I  I  Showthrough/ 

I  I  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I  I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 


Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc..  have  been  ref limed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiallement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata.  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  M  filmies  A  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


: 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  rMuction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


12X 


16X 


20X 


m 


24X 


26X 


30X 


28X 


32X 


ire 

details 
es  du 
modifier 
er  une 
filmage 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Library  of  Congress 
Photoduplication  Service 

The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


L'exemplaire  filmA  fut  reproduit  grAce  d  la 
gAnArositA  de: 

Library  of  Congress 
Photoduplication  Service 

Les  images  suivantes  ont  StS  reproduites  a*  ' ':  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nottet6  de  l'exemplaire  filmA,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fllmago. 


les 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^^  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  bn  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposisre  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimis  sont  film6s  en  commengant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernlAra  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  seion  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  fiimis  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
derniAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  -^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmfo  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA,  il  est  filmA  d  partir 
de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


errata 
i  to 


9  pelure, 
on  d 


D 


32X 


1 

1 

2 

3 

1  2  3 

4  5  6 


; 


j 


to. 


ALDEANE. 


f 


V 


^^" 


A  NOVEL. 


BY    LAUEA/^EESTON 

ALTIIOU    OF    -Yn    UUNDB,"   BT(\ 


■■>" 


^^hk.\\ 


^      NEW  YORK: 

A.   ROMAN   &   COMPANY,   PUBLISHERS. 

SAN   FRANCrSCO: 

417    AXn   419    MONTGO.\[RRy   ST. 

1808. 


•ym 


^ 


■'•■J 
"J 


K nti-HMl  iicconlli.i:  to  A.'t  of  Cnsross  ii.  the  yciir  ISfiO,  by 

A.    KOMAN  &   I'O- 

in  ll.c  CUtU-s  Olllc  oi  the  District  Court  of  the  United  9tnto»  for  the 

SniitlK'in  OistHot  of  N^'W  Voik. 


Cir.vp. 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

JX. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 


J 


w^ 


>- 

W 


'y. 


'J 


the  yciir  ISfi?,  by 
I  United  States  for  the 

OlU. 


CONTEIS'TS 


I.  Mrs.  N'evi.vs  declakes  her  Poweh 5 

II.    COU-NTERI'LOTS J4 

III.  AnTnuu's  Kari.y  r    :tion 20 

IV.  Xew  Faces  and  New  Fkie.nds 27 

V.  Small  CiiAX(iE.s  and  One  (iRKAf  CiiAstiE ?i\ 

VI.  What  Arthur's  Caution  availed 4:{ 

VII.  Aldeaxe  takes  a  Journey  and  fint'S  a  Home .)9 

VIII.  A  Slioiit  M vstkry go 

IX.   (JRASSMEKE en 

X.  "  January  and  Ma v  " go 

XI.  An  Une.vpectbd  Arrival gg 

XII.  A  War  op  Words 90 

XIII.  A  Truce  proclaimed 108 

XIV.  Aldeane   learns  a  Secret -[w 

XV.  A  Second  Secret  told 123 

XVI.  Doubt  becomes  Certainty 129 

XVII.  A  Momentous  Inteuview 135 

XVIIT.  Two  Important  Letters 141 

XIX.  The  "  Merry  Wedding  " 150 

XX.  Leonore's  Strange  Lover ]r,7 

XXI.  Leonore's  Little  Secret j  04 

XXIL  The  Old  Arbor  at  Grassmere n3 

XXIII.  The  Voice  in  the  Storm i8« 

XXIV.  What  tur  WKDDiNa  Morning  nuoutiiiT id,-, 


i 


C'UAP. 

XXV. 
XXVI. 

xxvir. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

xxxiir. 

XXXIV. 
XXXV. 

XXXVI. 
XXXVII. 
XXXVIII. 


CONTEXTS. 

Pauk 

A  Long  Axn  Fatkfui.  Tale '-!•' 

TiiK  Ci.osK  OF  TiiK  Fatf.i'ui.  Rlcouo -•"■' 

TllK  PROOIUNd  Kl.OWEU -'"'2 

ALDEANE  KETUIINS  TO     TUB  NoUTll "**0 

A   THEASCnB    FOUND -**^ 

The  'lOVERNEss  resumes  ueu  Duties -9*» 

The  DnooriNO  Flower  iadeh 305 

ReTUIHUTIOX  BEdlXS ■'!'' 

William  Ake.sdell's  Narrative ^'-•'» 

Important  Coruesponhence ■*'**^ 

Alueaxe'S  Mission-  and  its  Uesilts •'555 

A  Tardy  Explanation ''^1 

Father  and  Daughter  at  Home 370 

Conclusion ^^"^ 


Th. 
tFu'  sii 
oach 
tain  i. 
engro! 
a  wild 
that  r 
in  the 
the  he 

The 
the  sin 
I'ustoir 
lioarts 

111)011  t 

Thei 
to  do  I 
Massac 
haps,  b 
would 
ins  woi 
severit; 
glowini 


Paur 

'Ji:! 

iOORn 2:*<"i 

'J(!2 

mi 2«0 

289 

Dltiks '^9fs 

305 

315 

VK 325 

348 

KSII.TS 355 

301 

,MK 379 

397 


A  L  D  E  A  N  E 


CIIAPTEIi   I. 

MKS.    .NKVIXS    DKCLAIMCS    IIER   POWKI!. 

TiKn'Gii  tlie  wind  without  l)k>w  its  slr.r.Iost  blast  aii.l 
t!u.  snow  canu'  c(-asd,>ssly,  wliilo  tl.o  hitter  coKl  pointc.l 
oach  flake  with  ice  as  it  fell,  the  inmates  of  the  moun- 
tain farm-house  heeded  it  ,.ut  little,  so  deeply  wre  they 
engrossed  in  their  own  thuusrhts  and  pursuits.  It  was 
u  wddly-stormy  night,  but  not  more  tieree  were  the  winds 
that  ruled  it  than  the  thoughts  of  some  who  gathered 
in  the  comfortable  sitting-room  around  the  blazin-r  lire  on 
the  hearth-stone. 

There  are  times  when  the  wan-ing  of  the  elements  seems 
the  signal  for  the  rending  asunder  of  bonds  of  duty,  or 
custom,  and  especially  for  the  deep  bitterness  of  injured 
liearts  to  find  vent  in  passi.M.ate  words.  Thus  was  it 
upon  that  temi)est-ridden  night  in  which  our  story  opens. 

There  had  been  an  unusually  large  quantity  of  work 
to  do  upon  the  farm  that  day,  and  at  best  an  estate  of 
Massachusetts  -res  is  not  easily  managed.  It  was,  per- 
haps, because  o.  that,  and  a  foreboding  of  the  toil' that 
^vould  come  with  the  snow-ch;d  morrow,  that  Jonas  Xev- 
iiis  wore  upon  his  ever-scowling  brow  a  irown  of  unusual 
seventy,  and  sat  moodily  by  the  firo  gazing  into  the 
glowing  coals. 


6 


.1  Li) i:a  si:. 


Tic  was  not  at  any  tiim'  a  pleasant  man  to  look  iit  ; 
llicrc  wiTi'  too  many  \v,\\>\\  ami  cnirl  limn  iiiun  liiin  sal- 
low count  ■.•nunoo;  his  Hinall  gray  oyi's  ol'tin  ilasliiil  too 
ticrccly  licncatli  liis  heavy  lirnws;  aml,ali(>ve  all,  his  nerv- 
ous lips  were  too  deeply  sinister  in  their  ever-fhaiii.Mn.;jt 
rurvoH.  Hut  with  all  tliis,  he  was  not  an  ugly  man  ;  so 
far  as  regular  features,  luxuriant  iron-gray  hair,  and  u 
tall,  well-Unit  figure  eould  make  him  so,  Jonas  Xevins 
was  a  liandsome  man. 

So  thought  his  wife,  a  fair-haired  woman  of  thirty-live, 
who  sat  opposite  to  him,  glancing  at  liini  furtively  some- 
times, hut  appearing  to  he  almost  totally  engrossed  by 
lier  knitting. 

That  night  the  face  of  Mrs.  Xevins  was  one  worthy  of 
more  than  passing  notice.  Not  for  its  beauty — tlutugh  it 
was  evi(h'nt  that  slic  liad  onoc  been  beautiful,  though 
care  and  grief  had  long  striven  to  deny  it — but  for  the 
expression  of  determination  tliat  rcstecl  upon  her  thin  lips 
and  strangely  contrasted  witli  the  meekly  droojiing  eyes, 
an<l  the  almost  timid  glances  that  turned  from  them  upon 
the  stern  occujiant  of  the  opposite  chair. 

I  have  described  first  the  ehU'r  members  of  this  fireside 
group,  performing  thus  my  easiest  task;  far  beyond  de- 
scription l)y  a  few  jioor  words  were  those  others — young 
Arthur  Cluthrie  and  liis  sister  Aldeane. 

Equidly  beyond  such  description  were  they,  although 
most  strangely  unlike.  The  boy  was  tall,  dark,  and 
strong  in  appearance,  while  the  girl  was  exceedingly 
fair  and  delicate,  and,  altliongh  but  three  years  younger 
tliau  her  brother,  presenting  a  strange  contrast  of  child- 
ishness in  comparis(m.  lie  was  then  about  fifteen,  and, 
in  spite  of  a  growth  verging  already  upou  six  feet,  was 
still  but  a  boy  in  appearance.  There  was  much  of  the 
unconthness  belonging  to  boyhood  on  his  well-knit  figure, 
and  of  boyish  beauty  in  his  smooth,  dark  face,  shaded  by 
black,  loosely-curling  locks.     His  eyes  were  bent  upon 


I 


.1  Liu:.\  si:. 


lilt  niiiii  t(i  liMik  at  ; 
ii'l  liiii'H  i|Hiii  liin  nal- 
cM  (ifU'ii  lliislu'd  too 
i|,ali(ivi'  all,  his  norv- 
tiu'ir  I'Vcr-fliaiii.Mii'j; 
i(»t  an  iij^ly  man  ;  ho 
roii-i;ray  liair,  and  a 
im  so,  Jonas  Novins 

wnniiin  of  tliirty-livi', 
t  liini  tiirtivih  sonie- 
totally  i-nirrossi'd  by 

IS  was  one  Avortiiy  of 
its  bt'auty — thouLfh  it 
L'on  beautiful,  thouLfh 

dony  it — bnt  lor  the 
t(Ml  upon  li(  r  thin  lips 
[it'i'kly  drooi>injj;  oycs, 
irni'd  iVoni  tliem  uj)oii 
hair. 

embers  of  this  fireside 
task ;  far  beyond  de- 
'  those  others — young 
me. 
1  were  they,  althouQ;1i 

was  tall,  dark,  and 
t^irl  was  exeeedinyly 

three  years  younger 
iigc  contrast  of  ehild- 
cu  about  fifteen,  and, 
ly  upon  six  feet,  was 
lere  was  niueli  of  the 
on  his  well-knit  figure, 
,  dark  faee,  shaded  by 
eyes  were  bent  upon 


h.s  book;  bn  wh..„,af  last,  he  raised  them  for  a  tnoment 
o  glan.-e  at  his  nster,  they  were  revealed  in  ma.Miiti.vnt 
"••••ord  with  the  tropi,.,!  b.,,uty  of  his  faee.  Thev  were 
truly  glorio,,.  oys ;  large,  bla.k,  an.I  fiery;  thoron.rhlv 
.^xi.ressive  o(  the  strong,  proud  spirit  of  ,|,..ir  possessor 
.1  l.<.y  were  eys  that  had  gained  for  Arthur  ( Jiithrie  the 
■-"Plaeable  hativd  of  his  step-father,  for  thev,  though  his 
tongue  had  b..,.„  g„a,,K,.,  ,..,1,  had  reveale.i  tlu-  di:trust 
and  M'orii  m  which  lie  lield  hi,,,. 

Hut,  althoii^h  Jonas  Xc.vins  hated  his  stop-son,  he  did 

»"t,  <-ould  not,  hate  the  chiM  wlio  sa(  by  his  side       \s  I 

haye  said  before,  she  was  fair  and  delh-a'te,  and  this,  with 

the  p,.rfect  gra...  of  lier  figure,  sec,ned  at  first  her  only 

claim  to  beauty.     Il.-r  ..ys  wen-  ndecd  softly  brown  and 

tender,  but  it  was  only  under  the  infincnee  ofsome  strong 

o-vc.tement  that  tliey  became  beautiful.     But  in  her  ,.0?- 

s.ye  moments,  an<I  they  w.-re  many,  there  stole  oyc>r  the 

.ountenanoe  of  Aldea.i,-   <^uthrie   a  rare  ...xpression   of 

peaceful  hope,  which  irradiated  lier  plain  features  with 

an  ahnost  dnme  light,  and,  in  the  heart  of  her  mother 

gaye  her  the  name  of  tlie  "  Peace  child." 

Ami  in  that  house  she  was  the  "Peace  child,"  not  only 
m  name,  but  in  fact.  More  than  once  had  she  i.ncon- 
nonsly  quelled  the  eyil  passions  of  Jonas  Neyins  and 
e  fiery  temper  ol  her  brother;  but  on  (his  night,  in 
I'lissful  unconsciousness  that  such  infiuence  was  needed 
she  bent  oyer  the  book  from  which  her  l>rother  was  alsj 
rojulmg,  his  dark  cheek  almost  touching  hers 

They  were  eyid.-ntly  obliyious  of  the"time,  for  they  did 
not  eyen  glance  up  when  the  clock  stnu-k  nine.     Not  so 
howeyer,  was  their  step-father,  who  had  for  some  mol 

Z^^  ""■^''^'  '''''^""^^  *'^^'"'  •'^"'1  ^^-''^  th^'»  «=»^i. 

"Are  those  children  to  stay  up  all  night;  are  thev 

neyer  going  to  bed  ?"  ^  uity 

"Vos,  it^is  now  time,"  replied  Mrs.  Xeyins,  quietly. 


g  A  LI)  /CA  .VE. 

"  Artliur  Al'liaiif,  .li.l  yn\i  imt  litar  linw  late  it  In?     An- 
ycinr  Ifswnis  rvady  l«>r  to-iiu>rrow  V" 

"All  rca.lv,  inntlicr,"  ictiinud  Arthur,  colUctiiii,'  liis 
l.thiks,  anil,  iWr  tin-  rn>l  tiiiif,  «)l)scr\  in;;  tlic  unusually 
inoo.ly  liU'i-  of  his  st»'i>-t!itlu'r,  while  AltU-aup  lighted  the 
bnlrooin  candles,  and  l>adc  her  mother  "(Joud  niyht." 

She  niurmurcd  the  words  to  .Mr.  Nevins  also,  hut  he 
ilid  not  ajuu-ar  to  lu-ar  either  her  voice  or  ArthurV,  and, 
treinhliu!,'  with  cold,  each  hastened  across  the  wide  hall, 
and  uji  till'  stairs  into  their  own  rooms,  leaving  their 
mother  to  a  task  vhich  wiis  to  decide  their  lutnro. 

Hut  they  kmnv  nothing  (.f  that,  and  were  haiipily  asleep 
helbre  one  word  was  spoken  in  the  room  below.  Indeed, 
tor  !V  full  hour,  Jonas  Nevinn  sat  silently  before  tlie  fire, 
nnd  his  wife  steadily  knitted  on,  waiting  and  jireparing 
her  answer  for  the  words  she  fell  certain  he  would  speak. 
.\nd  she  was  not  wrong,  for  when  she  had  grown  al- 
most weary  of  waiting,  he  looked   up,  frowningly,  and 

said  : — 

"  Have  you  thought  of  that  matter  I  spoke  to  you  of::' 
Have  you  tliought  of  what  is  to  be  done  with  that  buy? 
for,  by  heavens,  lie  shall  not  stay  here  to  madden  me 
with  his  insolent  eyes." 

"  No,  he  shall  not  stay  here,"  she  said  quietly,  "  but  we 
will  not  speak  of  him  lirst  ;  we  will  speak  of  my  dauglUer." 

"  Your  daughter!"  he  said  with  a  sneer. 

Mrs.  Nevins  raised  lier  eyes  to  his  face  and  said  firmly. 
"  Her  daughter  then.  The  daughter  of  my  sister,  whose 
heart  you  broke."  • 

She  saw  him  turn  deadly  pale,  but  over  his  well-trained 
countenance  passed  neither  an  exi)ression  of  terror  or  sur- 
prise, and  presently  he  laughed  as  lie  said : — 

"  I  suspected  that  before^  I  thought  that  boy  and  girl 
could  not  be  the  children  of  one  mother.  But  how  can 
she  l)e  the  child  of  your  sister,  whose  heart  I  broke? 
Where  did  I  ever  see  your  sister  ?" 


1 


sonii 
"  \\ 

'♦] 
is  (h 
in  a 

"I 
u  \v<  I 

'II 
tho.i 

"  wli 
"I 
"It 
guilt 
Til 
fear, 
of  pn 
-I 
prool 
sand 
man 
than 
He 
uj>on 
"L 
oath. 
"Y 
answ( 
signal 
•'I 
her  tl 
upon 
It  ^ 
mome 
Jonas 


T 


how  lati'  it  is?     Arc 

.rtliiir,  collcctiiiii  liin 
rvin;;   tlif   miuMiiilly 

AltlfJint'  liulitcd  tin' 
uT  "  (looil  niiilit." 

Nfvins  also,  Itiit  lie 
ticf  or  ArtlmrV,  aiitl, 
across  the  wiiU-  hall, 
rooms,  Icav'mu;  tlu-ir 
Ic  tlioir  luturi'. 
1  win-  liaindly  aslfcp 
■ooiii  l)clo\v.  IiiiK't'd, 
kiitly  bciorc  tlic  fire, 
aitinu-  and  |irci)arin}; 
rtaiii  111'  would  speak, 
n  hIu'  had  urowii  al- 

u]),  frowniiijily,  and 

or  I  spoke  to  you  of'::' 
done  with  that  boy? 
hon-  to  madden  mu 

said  quietly,  "l»ut  we 
[leak  of  my  daughter." 
I  sneer. 

s  face  and  said  firmly, 
■r  of  my  sister,  whose 

t  ovor  his  well-trained 
ession  of  terror  or  sur- 
lie  said  : — 

ight  that  boy  and  girl 
(lother.  But  how  ean 
•hose   heart  I  broke? 


A  1. 1>  i:  .\  s  r..  0 

"In  her  linnie,"  she  answere<l  finnly,  though  there  was 
soniclhing  in  his  look  whieh  caused  her  heart  to  beat  wildly. 
"  Vou  knew  her  in  \,„t|,  Carolina,  where  she  died." 

"How  many  times  nn.re  shall  y(Mi  tell  me  the  Woman 
is  (h'ad?"  he  asked.  "  JJut  liow  was  I  to  see  your  sister 
in  a  place  where  I  never  was?" 

"  Mut  where  was '/"     She  arose  and  whispered 

a  Word  in  his  ear, 

'I'lie  utterance  h.id  evidently  shocked  him  fearfully, 
tho.igh  he  still  strove  to  hide  it  "(Von.  her. 

"What  do  you  nu-an  ?"  he  saiil  with  a  forced  laugh; 
"what  are  ynii  prating  and  whispering  about?" 

"'I'he  trulh,"she  s.iid,  as  (piiefly  and  lirndy  as  ever. 
"It  Im  useless  for  you  to  deny  your  identity  or  your 
guilt.     I  have  proof,  overwhelming  proof,  of  both." 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  she  saw  him  give  one  sicjn  of 
fear.  "  Proof!  proof!"  he  g.ispe.l,  "  there  can  be  no  si-u 
ol  proof!"  and  then  he  cursed  himself,  his  fi)lly,  and  hei" 

"I  have  the  proof,"  she  reiterated  slowly.  "I  have 
proof  enough  hero  to  award  you  a  punishnient  a  thou- 
san<l  tinu's  more  severe  than  you  drew  upon  that  innocent 
man  twelve  years  ago.  A  thousand  times  more  severe 
than  the  law  could  ever  levy  on  him." 

Ho  sprang  up  furiously,  and  threw  Ids  hand  heavily 
upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Let  me  si-o  wh.it  you  have,"  he  cried,  with  a  horrible 
oath.^   "  (iive  it  to  mo,  or  I  \\\\\  kill  you  to  get  it." 

"  Vou  could  not  wrest  it  from  me  by  killing  me,"  she 
answered,  as  unmoved  as  over.  "  My  death  would  be  the 
signal  fi)r  the  mine  to  explode  beneath  you." 

•'  I  have  a  mind  to  risk  that,"  he  muttered,  releasing 
her  then,  however,  and  eatehing  up  a  pai)er  she  throw 
upon  the  table. 

It  was  not   long  nor  closely  written,  but  in  the  few 
moments  it  took  him  to  become  master  of  its  contents, 
Jonas  Xevins,  outwardly,  at  least,  became  a  changed  man.' 
1* 


10 


ALDEANE. 


IIo  heat  his  hrow  witli  liis  o])oii  pahn,  aiul  rrroaiied  in  an 
nsony  of  fear,  then  PU(l(U>uly  ho  Hinicd  to  liis  wife,  and 
besonsilit  her  not  to  ruin  liiin,  to  believe  him  penitent,  to 
spare  liim,  for  God's  sake  to  spare  him. 

Then,  for  the  iirst  time,  she  U)st  her  ealmnoss.  Then  she 
broke  into  bitter  invectives  and  terrible  threats,  and  still 
the  miserable  man  bent  down  before  her  and  prayed  her 
to  spare  him. 

It  was  some  time  before  she  -would  answer  a  word  to 
that.  "  You  are  in  my  power,"  she  said.  "  I  can  crush 
you  with  a  wave  of  my  hand.  Liviniic  or  dead  you  are  in 
my  power.  Where  do' you  think  are  the  originals  of  those 
jKipers  I  have  copied  for  you?" 

"  With— with  hhn,  perhaps,"  he  said. 
"  Xo,"  she  returned,   incautiously,  "  I  woidd  to  God 
they  v,-ere,  that  I  could  ttnd  him  anywhere  upon  the  earth, 
to  give  them  to  him.     But  they  are  safe." 

"  But  you  can  have  no  object  in  using  them  against 
me!"  he 'exclaimed  eagerly.  "Your  only  object  would 
be  to  clear  his  name,  if  he  were  living  to  need  it.  But 
think,  think  at  what  a  price  you  would  do  it  now." 

"  The  price  is  nothing,"  she  said^  "  the  gain  is  every 
thing." 

"  For  that  child,"  he  said. 
"  For  that  cliild,"  she  answered  him. 
I  have  said  that  Jonas  Nevins  was  in  form  and  feature 
a  handsome  man,  but  I  have  not  before  said  what  power 
of  expression  those  features  held ;  that  night  his  face  had 
been  almost  demoniacal  in  'its  hate  and  rage,  but  after 
these  words  it  softened  into  almost  heavenly  tendernes-s. 

"  Ah,  the  child  !  the  child  !"  he  said,  "  if  you  could  but 
prove  your  words,  the  gain  would,  indeed,  be  great  for 
her;  but  ycu  can  not,  you  know." 

She  did  know  it.  She  had  ever  known  that  the  proofs 
slie  held  were  not  so  complete  as  she  had  said.  They  might 
convict  him,  but  there  was  grei.t  danger  they  would  not. 


ALDEA^  E. 


11 


,  and  proaiipcl  in  an 
icd  to  )iis  wife,  and 
ivc  him  penitent,  to 
II. 

•ulninoss.  Then  she 
ble  threats,  and  still 
her  and  prayed  her 

1  answer  a  word  to 
said.  "  I  can  crush 
;  or  dead  yon  are  in 
he  originals  of  those 

lid. 

,  "  I  would  to  God 

ihere  upon  the  earth, 

afe." 

using  them  against 
r  only  object  would 
ng  to  need  it.  But 
lid  do  it  now." 

"the  gain  is  every 


tn. 

1  in  form  and  feature 
"ore  said  what  power 
at  night  his  face  had 
and  rage,  but  after 
eavenly  tenderness, 
id,  "  if  you  could  but 
indeed,  be  great  for 

nown  that  the  proofs 
lad  said.  They  might 
nger  they  would  not. 


She  knew  this,  and  he  liad  grown  cool  enough  to  know  it 
too. 

"Xo,"  he  continued  eoolly,  "there  is  not  proof  enough 
here  *o  justify  any  jury  in  returning  a  verdict  againsl 
me,  but  there  is  enough  to  prejudice  an  ignorant  connnu- 
nity,  and  still  not  enough  to  give  that  child  her  rights." 

His  wife  was  almost  stunned  by  this  sudden  exhibition 
of  calmness,  but  she  was  determined  not  be  baffled  by  it. 

"  That  proof  would  do  more  than  you  will  admit,"  she 
said ;  "  but  as  he  can  not  l)e  found,  I  liave  no  wish  to  use 
it  against  you,  if  you  will  do  your  duty  by  his  child,  and 
by  mine." 

"  By  yours,"  he  cried  ))assionateiy,  "  I  will  do  nothing 
for  him.  I  hate  him.  Take  what  you  like  for  her,  but 
nothing  for  liim.  Not  one  cent,  not  one  crust  of  bread 
for  him." 

"  Y'ou  have  all  that  once  Avas  mine,"  she  said.  "You 
have  all  save  the  pitiful  sum  I  would  not  take  from  him. 
That  shall  not  be  used.  You  shall  buy  my  silence.  You 
shall  educate  my  son." 

Oh  !  with  what  hate  he  looked  at  her,  and  at  the  papers 
he  held.  "  There  is  enough  here  to  ruin,  if  not  to  con- 
vict me,"  he  thought,  and  then  he  told  her  she  should 
have  what  slie  wished,  that  he  would  educate,  and  clothe 
and  feed  her  son.  "  And  may  his  learning  be  his  curse," 
he  said  passionately.  "May  his  clothing  make  him  a 
leper,  and  the  food  poison  him." 

Mrs.  Xevins  smiled  derisively.  "  You  must  give  me  a 
bond,"  she  said.     "  I  will  not  take  your  simple  word." 

"  I  will  sign  no  bond,  that  would  be  equal  to  a  confes- 
sion," he  answered ;  "  and  you  shall  hold  no  such  weapon 
as  that  against  me,  woman." 

But  she  was  inexorable  and  conquered.  He  read  the 
bond  she  placed  before  him,  and  would  have  signed  but 
she  stayed  his  hand.  "  The  witnesses,"  she  said,  "  the 
witnesses.     We  must  have  witne«sc-»  to  this." 


12 


ALDEASE. 


She  eallocl  in  two  sorvaiits  who  wore  passing  thronoih 
the  hall  to  their  rooms.  They  wonclorincly  saw  the 
master  sign  his  na>ne,  and  then  affixed  their  own  to  the 
document,  of  which  Mrs.  Nevins  immediate  'y  took  posses- 
sion. 

"  And  now,  '  good-niglit,' "  she  said,  when  they  were 
gone,  "  and  remember  whether  I  live,  or  die,  you  are  in 
my  power.  I  shall  send  my  cliildren  away  next  week. 
Attempt  to  injure  them,  and  forgetful  of  all  save  the  di-,- 
grace  of  that  innocent  mail,  and  my  sister's  wrongs,  I  M'ill 
set  the  hand  of  the  law  upon  you,  and  you  shall  be  known 
for  the  villain  you  an" 

In  another  moment  lie  was  alone. 

The  very  air  seemed  full  of  horrors.  He  could  not  for 
some  moments  move  from  the  spot  in  which  she  had  left 
him.  His  face  lost  the  last  trace  of  defiance,  and  became 
ghastly  white.  He  sank  into  a  cliair  at  last,  and  cowered 
over  the  fii-^.  that  sunk  first  into  a  mass  of  glowing 
embers,  and  then  whitened  into  cold  ashes.  Yet  still  he 
sat  there.  The  rats  played  noisily  around  the  wainscot- 
ing, and  the  mice  nibbled  industriously  in  the  closet,  but 
he  heeded  them  not.  His  past  life,  of  wliich  he  seldom 
thought,  and  never  without  the  utmost  horror,  M'^as  stand- 
ing before  him,  all  its  days  blackened  by  a  crime,  which 
had  blotted  out  one  young  life,  that  he  had  loved  as  man 
never  loves  but  once.  In  his  heart  there  had  been  one 
green  spot,  but  the  hand  of  Cain  had  seared  it.  Love- 
enters  once  into  the  heart  of  every  man.  It  had  crept 
into  that  of  Jonas  Nevins,  and  by  i<^s  unblessed  ardor 
had  cursed  it  forever.  All  tliose  things  arose  before  him, 
as  he  sat  regardless  of  the  cold,  with  M'hich  he  shivei-ed, 
or  of  the  time,  that  on  the  *;ible  wings  of  night  was 
hastening  to  open  the  golden  gates  of  morning. 

At  last  he  muttered,  almost  inarticulately, "  Good  God, 
that  she  should  know  it !  What  a  fool  I  have  been  never 
to  have  destroyed    those  cursed    letters !      They  have 


ruine 


ore  passing  tlirough 
ondcrincfly  saw  the 
xod  thtir  own  to  the 
iccliatc  'y  took  posses- 
aid,  Avhon  they  wore 
re,  or  die,  you  are  in 
ren  away  next  week, 
ill  of  all  save  the  di.s- 
sistor's  Avrongs,  I  M'ill 
d  you  shall  be  known 


rs.  He  could  not  for 
in  which  she  had  left 
defiance,  and  became 
•  at  last,  and  cowered 
t  a  mass  of  glowing 
d  ashes.  Yet  still  he 
around  the  wainscot- 
isly  in  the  closet,  but 
',  of  wliich  he  seldom 
3st  horror,  w^as  stand- 
ed  by  a  crime,  which 

he  had  loved  as  man 
t  there  had  been  one 
had  seared  it.  Love- 
r  man.  It  had  crept 
'  i^^s  unblessed  ardor 
ings  arose  before  him, 
:h  M'hich  he  shivei-ed, 

wings  of  night  was 
of  morning, 
julately, "  Good  God, 
ool  I  luive  been  never 
letters  !      Thoy  have 


A  LDEANE. 


13 


ruined  me;  it  must  liave  been  fatality!  But  I  will 
destroy  1  hem  to-night,  before  1  sleep!"  and  seizin^  the 
candle  he  passed  into  the  hall  and  was  soon  groping  his 
way  up  the  garret  stairs.  The  wind  blew  out  the  candle, 
and  shivering  with  cold  and  superstitious  fi'ar,  he  returned 
to  liglit  it,  but  found  not  one  live  eml)er.  At  last  a 
light  was  procured,  and  he  again  ascended  the  stairs. 
The  garret  was  a  large  open  place,  and  the  candle  could 
cast  but  a  tliekering  ligiit  over  its  gloom.  A  rat  ran 
over  his  feet  as  he  entered.  Tiie  place,  to  his  heated 
imagination,  seemed  peopled  with  liorrible  demons,  and 
lie  shuddered  as  lie  heard  his  footsteps  break  the  still- 
ness. 

lie  hurried  to  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  nearly 
stumbled  over  some  dark  object,  lie  stooped  to  examine 
it.  It  was  a  small  iron  box,  the  lock  was  broken,  the 
contents  were  gone,  save  a  little  strip  of  paper.  He  held 
the  candle  up  before  it,  and  with  half-frenzied  brain  saw 
written,  in  a  hand  that  he  had  well  known  in  by-gone 
years,  and  wl'.'oh  he  had  hoped  never  to  see  again,  the 
sentence  :  "  Ketribution  is  hastening  upon  thee." 

"  O  God  !"  gasped  Xevins,  "  What  can  this  mean  !" 
and,  sitting  down  on  an  old  trunk,  he  gave  way  to  the 
deepest  emotions  of  horror  and  fear.  At  last  he  arose 
and  began  to  search  in  all  the  corners  and  crevices  of  the 
I'oom  for  the  missing  papers,  but  all  in  vain.  His  candle 
flickered  in  the  socket,  and  he  was  obliged  to  desist. 

The  box  was  there — but  the  papers,  the  proofs  of  his 
guilt,  were  gone. 


CHAPTER    II. 


COIXTKRI'I'OTS. 

Abovt  fifteen  miles  south  of  the  mountain  farm-house, 
and  at  nearly  the  same  distance  from  Hoston,  stood  a 
handsome  residence,  well  known  in  the  vicinity  as  Rose 
Cottage,  and  alihough  in  the  winter  season  it  appeared 
to  have  no  claim  to  the  name,  as  early  as  the  month  of 
June  until  late  in  the  autumn,  it  became  most  appro- 
priate. . 

But  even  when  devoid  of  its  summer  garniture  Rose 
Cottage  was  a  handsome  building,  its  walls  of  gray  stone, 
ornamented  with  lanciful  windows  and  piazzas,  and  sur- 
mounted by  small  turrets,  rose  grandly  above  the  snow, 
appearing  to  otfer  shelter  and  comfort  from  the  cold  and 
storm  without.  Even  the  grounds  presented  none  of  the 
desolation  common  to  most  gardens  during  the  winter  of 
a  northern  clime.  There  were  few  straggling  shrubs  to 
bestrew  the  snow  with  dry,  crisp  branches  and  unsightly 
stalks,  but  rich,  ever-verdant  hedges  of  holly,  bestrewn 
with  their  scarlet  berries,  encircled  the  dwelling  and  its 
appurtenances  from  the  desolate  waste  of  snowy  fields 
without,  and  stately  cedars '  guarded  it  from  the  shrill 
winds  and  induced  hundreds  of  tiny,  busy  winter  birds  to 
trill  their  soft  notes  within  their  branches,  and  to  keep 
around  Rose  Cottage  one  ceaseless  reminder  of  the  by- 
gone summer. 

Some  three  weeks  after  the  memorable  night  on  wlucli 
Mrs.  Nevins  had  declared  to  her  husband  her  power,  a 
.nuUleman  walked  thoughtfully  up  and  down  oue  of  the 

a 


one 


and 

sum 

(( 

a  nii 

" 

rule 

Till  Til 

illilll 

iug  1 

ountain  farm-house, 
)m  liostou,  stood  a 
:hc  vicinity  as  Kusi* 
season  it  appeared 
ly  as  the  month  of 
)eoamc  most  appro- 

mcr  garniture  Rose 
walls  of  gray  stone, 
id  piazzas,  and  sur- 
dly  above  the  snow, 
t  from  the  cold  and 
resented  none  of  the 
luring  the  winter  of 
straggling  shrubs  to 
.nches  and  unsightly 
J  of  holly,  bestrewn 
the  dwelling  and  its 
iste  of  snowy  fields 
I  it  from  the  shrill 
busy  winter  birds  to 
•anches,  and  to  keep 
reminder  of  the  by- 
able  night  on  which 
usband  her  power,  a 
md  down  one  of  the 


ALDEANE, 


15 


most  pleasant  of  all  the  pleasant  rooms  of  Kose  Cottage. 
It  was  known  us  "Mr.  Asliton's  room"  and  was  neither 
l)arlor,  smoking-room,  nor  library,  but    partook    of  the 
character  of  all,  for  there  were  elegant  articles  of  furni- 
ture on  eveiy  hand,  cases  of  books  i)etween  tlu'  windows, 
and  smoking  materials  on  every  table,     liesides  which 
tliere  were  i)ictiues  on  the  walls,  guns  in  every  corner, 
and  numberless   indescribable   articles   on   every  hand. 
At  first  siglit,  one  would  have  declared  it  the  lounging 
apartment  of  a  wealthy  bachelor,  but  its  possessor^-as 
in  fact  a  widower,  having  but  little  to  remind  him  of  his 
one    short    year  of  wedded  life  except  a  dausjliter,  the 
portrait  of  whom  hung  over  the  mantel  and  seemed  to 
watch  him  Avith   its   laughing  blue  eyes  as  he  walked 
slowly  to  and  fro. 

Most  naturally  this  daughter  was  the  darling  and 
pride  of  his  heart,  and  often  he  paused  and  ghmced 
fondly  at  the  portrait.  It  bore  a  striking  thou'--li 
softened  likeness  to  himself.  The  large  blue  eyes  wen^ 
identical  in  color  and  expression,  the  long  flowing  curls 
of  the  child  M-ere  of  the  same  golden-brown  hue  as  his 
own  luxuriant  hair,  the  well-defined  features  were  soft- 
ened models  of  liis  own,  but  the  tiny  rose-bud  mouth 
was  a  beauty  peculiar  to  the  face  of  the  child,  the  beauty 
that  with  her  voice  and  smile  she  had  inherited  from 
her  dead  mother. 

While  Mr.  Ashton  was  still  pursuing  his  thoughtful 
walk,  a  light  tap  sounded  on  the  door  of  the  apart!inent, 
and  an  old  woman,  evidently  the  housekeeper,  obeyed  his 
summons  to  enter. 

"I'm  sorry  to  disturb  you,  sir,"  she  said,  "but  there's 
a  man  here  that  wants  to  see  you." 

"Show  him  in,"  answered  Mr.  Ashton,  who  made  it  a 
rule  to  see  every  one  that  asked  for  him,  and  a  few 
nuniites  later  a  tall,  rough-looking  man  entered,  and  bow- 
ing to  Jlr.  Ashton  said,  "  I  have  come  at  last,  sir." 


iiL 


ifi 


ALDEASE. 


"Why,  Im.U'v!"  oxolaimod  Mr.  Ashton.  "Wliat  have 
yon  flom'  to  yourself?  Slmt  the  (h).)r  smkI  sit  dowii  by 
the  firo  ;  it's  w  bit  tor  cohl  ihiy." 

The  m:in  .li.l  as  directed,  \ooV.\\\%  sharply  a.onud  him 
like  one  aeeiistonied  to  observe  every  thiiKj:. 

"  And  now,"  said  :^lr.  Asliton,  "  what  have   yon  got 

for  me  V"  ,-    i    u 

"It  may  b.'  nmch,  or  m  may  be  nothinfr,  replied  the 
man  doubtfully;  "but  she  seemed  to  think  'em  a  good 

deal." 

"She!"     exclaimed    ^\\\    Ashton,    "Whom    do    you 

mean?"  .  ,       ^ 

"  She  as  found  em  after  I  had  been  pcerm'  and  ])ryni 
thrr.U'di  that  house  for  more  'n  tliree  months.     Just  my 
luck  to  Tuteh  him  and  watch  him  and  gain  nothin',  while 
she,  who  suf''.eeted  nothin',  stumbled  right  on  the  whole 

proof  at  once." 

"  Who  St  un;t)lcd  npon  it  ?     Speak  more  plainly,  man  : 
interrupted  ^Nlr.  Ash'ion  impatiently. 

"  Why,  his  wife,  sir !  his  wife.  She  Avent  up  to  the 
garret  one  day,  and  by  accident  like  I  liappened  to  go  up 
the  stairs  and  stand  by  the  door.  There  wasn't  any 
thin<r  hai)pened  for  p,  while,  and  then  all  at  once,  when 
phe  was  in  a  dark  corner  of  tl»e  place,  I  heard  her  cry  out 
sharp  and  low,  like  one  surprised  and  horritied,  and  then 
I  saw  lier  lift  a  little  box,  and  rush  to  a  window  with  it, 
and  then  she  cried  out  again  and  said, — 

"'My  God!  this  v/as  his.'" 

"  And  then  for  a  long  tinje  she  just  stood  still  and  looked 
ivt  it  and  tiien  in  a  frantic  way  she  tried  to  break  it  open 
but  it  was  iron  and  would  not  yield.  But  she  thought  her- 
self alone  in  the  house  and  cared  for  nothing.  She  took 
up  a  bar  of  iron  that  lay  there,  and  I  swear  to  you,  sir,  1 
couldn't  have  done  it  my  self,  she  wrenched  open  the  lid 
with  such  force  that  the  contents  liew  f.ir  and  wide." 
"  What  was  in  it  ?"  asked  Mr.  Ashton  breathlessly. 


I 


\shtoii.  "What  have 
l.iur  Diiil  Hit  ildwn  l»y 

r  sli:ir|ily  n.o'iiul  him 

ry  ihinjjc. 

"what  have  you  got 

iioth'msx,"  n'i>lk'(l  the 
1  U)  think  'em  a  good 


m,    "  Whom 


do    y 


on 


K'on  pccrin'  ami  jjryiu' 
ree  montlis.  Just  my 
iiud  gain  \iothin',  whiU? 
led  right  on  the  whole 


ik  more  plainly,  man 

iv. 


I" 


She  went  up  to  the 
ve  I  happened  to  go  up 
Dr.  Tliere  wasn't  any 
then  all  at  onoe,  wlien 
ice,  I  heard  her  cry  out 
and  horrified,  and  tlion 
sh  to  a  window  with  it, 
said, — 

st  stood  still  and  looked 
e  tried  to  hreak  it  open 
i  But  she  thought  her- 
for  nothing.  She  took 
id  I  swear  to  you,  sir,  I 
;  wrenched  open  the  lid 
flew  far  and  wide." 
Ashton  breathlessly. 


A  Kl)  H A  Si:. 


V 


"I'apers,  sir,  |);ipers !  Notliing  els*'  as  I  saw.  Aiul 
that  woman,  sir,  crouclied  down  by  the  window  and  read 
'em  as  if  slu"  was  going  mad,  and  calU-d  out,  '  t)h,  my 
sister !  my  poor  murdered  sister,'  in  a  way  just  tit  to  make 
even  a  delectix  e's  lieart  break." 

"What!"  cried  Mr.  Asiiton.  "  Is  that  man's  wile  !ier 
sister.  It  can  not  be,  tlie  very  stones  would  have  crieil 
out  against  the  enonnity  of  such  a  marriage." 

"  It  ajjpears  'twas  quite  accidental,"  returned  the  man 
comiHisedly,  as  if  tlius  to  account  fur  tho  sib-nce  of  the 
stones.  "  Slie  met  him  on  the  road  somewhere.  J'lob- 
ably  he  didn't  know  her,  any  more  than  she  knew  him, 
and  he  was  kind  to  her  sick  child.  She  was  a  good- 
looking  woman,  with  the  signs  of  money  about  her  you 
see — and  lie  was  a  deceivin'  villain,  and  so  she  married 
him." 

"  Poor  woman  !  ])oor  woman  I"  ejaculated  ^Ir.  Ashtou. 

"And  you  may  well  say  that,"  said  the  detective,  in 
liis  passionless  voice.  "A  jioor  woman  she  is  in  more 
ways  than  one,  robbed  of  her  money,  health,  and  peace. 
Hut  though  those  letters  seemed  to  break  her  right  down 
when  she  read  'em  first,  they  gave  her  the  upper  hand  of 
him.  She  put  'em  all  hack  but  one.  I've  got  'em  here. 
But  that  one  mastered  him  I'm  safe  to  say,  for  the  next 
night  I  was  called  in  to  witness  some  bond  between  'em — 
I'd  just  got  those  letters  safe  into  my  pocket  with  a  string 
tied  round  'em — and  the  next  week  her  two  children  was 
sent  off  to  school.     He'd  bought  lier  silence,  you  see." 

"  That  relieves  my  mind  of  a  heavy  weight,"  said  3Ir. 
Ashton.  "  'Twould  never  do  for  the  matter  to  be  brought 
forward  now.     But  where  are  those  letters." 

The  detective  took  from  his  pocket  a  small  parcel  and 
handed  it  to  Mr.  Ashton.  He  opened  it  hastily,  and  took 
out  four  short  notes  which  he  read  attentively. 

"  These  prove  something,"  he  said,  "  but  not  much. 
Not  much.     She  has  the  missing  link  in  the  chain  of 


18 


A  LD  RAN  n. 


ovicU'iu'c,  >lu  only  one  of  inupii  importance.  \Ve  must 
luive  it.     I  will  go  to  her." 

I?ut  the  di'toctivc  interposed  in  his  ever-quiet  voice. 
"  Mrs.  Nevins  wouldn't  turn  traitor  to  her  husband,  sir, 
luitil  he  does  tu  her.  And  you  \vouldn't  want  to  ruin  an 
innocent  wt/uian  by  inplieatin'  her  in  his  crimes  I  s'posc  V" 

"  Of  course  not.     But  that  letter  I  must  have." 

"  All  in  fjood  time,  sir,  wh'?n  yo\i'r«!  ready  to  bring  the 
suit  on,  for  instance.  She  isn't  a  woman  to  be  terrified 
out  of  it,  and  it's  as  safe  with  her,  or  rather  with  Lawyer 
Ilalcombe,  for  I  traced  her  there  the  next  day,  as  it  would 
be  with  you." 

"  But  I  must  have  it  !"  reiterated  Mr.  Ashton. 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  returned  the  detective,  "but  you'll 
only  make  an  enemy  of  a  friend  by  forcing  that  paper 
iVoni  its  ))iesent  possessor,  for  she  looks  upon  it  as  the 
guardian  of  her  diildren.  If  I  was  a  lawyer,  sir,  I  should 
say  '  bide  your  time,'  but  as  I  am  oidy  a  detective,  sir, 
I'll  get  the  paper  for  you  if  yiu  like." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Ashton,  after  a  long  pause,  "  I  see  the 
wisdom  of  your  advice.  The  cause  at  any  rate  must  be 
ours.  It  would  be  ours  even  if  that  paper  was  destroyed. 
You  have  left  the  service  of  Nevins,  I  suppose." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  man  with  a  short  laugh, 
"  was  took  uncommon  bad  after  iinclm'  the  letters,  and 
couldn't  stay.  Good  servant  thf  ugh.  Go  back  at  any 
time.     No  policy  to  quarrel  there  you  know." 

"Then  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  pay  up  my  arrears," 
fjaid  Mr.  Ashton,  "  and  wisH  you  a  better  job  next  time. 
You'll  bear  this  matter  in  mind  though,  and  be  ready 
when  called  upon." 

"  That  I  will,  air,"  answered  the  detective,  counting  the 
coin  Mr.  Ashton  laid  before  him,  and  shortly  thereafter 
bowing  himself  out,  to  partake  of  a  lunch  in  the  house- 
keeper's room,  bt "  re  setting  out  for  Boston. 

When  left  alone,  Mr.  Ashton  re-read  again,  and  again. 


1 

I 


the  Jel 


angi 

knot 

his  1 
11 

J5 

utte 

it. 

I'll  8 

extr. 

scho 

I'ilb 

.1  A  D  HA  XE. 


19 


portanoc.     We  must 

his  ever-quipt  voico. 
■  to  her  husband,  sir, 
Idn't  want  to  ruin  an 
his  prime's  I  s'posc  V" 
I  must  have." 
u-  rpady  to  brinjx  tlie 
Dman  to  bp  territied 
r  rather  with  Lawyer 
next  day,  as  it  would 

Mr.  Ashton. 
pteptive,  "  but  you'll 
y  forcing  that  paper 
looks  upon  it  as  the 
I  lawyer,  sir,  I  should 
only  a  detective,  sir, 

ng  pause,  "  I  see  the 
<!  at  any  rate  must  be 
paper  was  destroyed. 
,  I  suppose." 
with  a  short  laugh, 
Kim'  the  letters,  and 
gh.  Go  back  at  any 
)u  know." 

pay  up  my  arrears," 
better  job  next  time, 
lougli,  and  be  ready 

'tective,  counting  the 
ad  shortly  tliereailer 
a  lunch  in  the  house- 
'  Boston. 
;ad  again,  and  again. 


the  letters  which  Imd  luen  given  him,  and  at  last  laying 
tlipm  in  a  small  iron  box,  jilaeed  thpm  in  a  safe,  sayin't;  to 
iiiinseli;  "  Hcst  tlu-rp  for  a  tinu',  and  then  we  shall  see,  Mr. 
.N'pvins;  avp  sliall  spp." 

For  a  second  time  on  tlmt  moniing  wpre  his  retlootions 
<listurl)e(l  l)y  a  knock  up.  ■  tlu'  door.  He  oiM'ncd  it,  and 
took  from  the  hand  of  a  sprvant  a  number  of  lettpis. 
(ilancing  hastily  over  tlie  address  of  each,  he  broke  the 
seal  of  the  smallest,  fondly  murmuring.  "  My  darlinu',"  and 
smilingly  perused  the  missive.  Hut  the  smile  soonfaded 
away  a"d  .1  look  of  eager  attention  succeeded.  "  Most 
renuirkable !  rpally  pxtraordinary  !"  hp  mutterpd  more 
than  onpp,  and  yet  the  words  which  caused  them  were 
but  few  and  simple. 

"  My  darling  father,  I  have  such  a  delightful  thing  to 
tell  you,"  began  the  second  paragraph  of  his  davighter'rt 
letter,     "Mrs.  (irenville  lias  given  me  sucli  a  nice  room- 
mate, and  I  like  her  already  so  much  better  than  I  did 
that  cross  Jennie  Grey  that  was  here  last  year.     And  sho 
has  such  n  pretty  name,  Aldeane  Guthrie,  and  though  she 
isn't  so  pretty  as  some  folks,  she  hjvs  such  a  ma;/>nyu-eHt 
brother,  and  his  ?iame  is  Arthur.     And,  pa,  what  do  you 
think,  Aldeane  livps  onlj  '"iu'cu  miles  from  our  house,  but 
I  don't  think  she'll  go  home  again  soon,  for  she  has  a  step- 
father, and  I  know  he's  hateful.     And  I  know  I  heard 
you  talking  about  him  to  some  man  once,  when  you  were 
angry,  and  sent  me  out  of  the  room  for  going  in  without 
knocking,  and  I  am  very  sorry  I  did  it,  ])a,  I  am  sure,  and 

his  name  is  Xevins,  and " 

But  ^h\  Ashton  read  at  that  time  no  farther,  but  gave 
utterance  to  a  variety  of  expressions  of  astonishnu'iit. 

"  And  this  is  as  it  ought  to  be,"  he  said  at  last,  "  and 
I'll  see  these  children,  and  befriend  them  too.  What  an 
extraordinary  thing  that  they  should  be  placed  at  that 
school.  There  must  be  a  providence  in  it.  At  anv  rate 
I'll  sec  the.. ." 


C  11  ATT  Ell    III. 


AIIIIUK's    KARLY    CAITION. 

And  Mr.  Asliton  kept  liis  promise.  He  »li<l  see  those 
«-)iil(lr(Mi.  Xot  iiiime.liiitely,  l)Ut  at\er  IJelle  bad  written 
i'noiiijli  of  them  tor  liim  to  know  them  well,  ami  even 
then  he  (li<l  not  yield  to  his  lirst  inelinatioii  to  make  a 
pretext  for  seein;,' tliem  at  sehool,  hnt  wlien  Hose  t'ottn^te 
M-as  Avorthy  of  its  name,  and  tlie  <,'lorious  summer  had 
made  all  the  surroiindinu:  eountry  beautiful,  he  liad 
written  to  his  (hiusrhter  to  brinu;  them  l>ome  for  the  vaea- 
tion.  And  after  some  hesitation,  knowing  that  the  doors 
of  their  oAvn  home  were  virtually  barred  a<;ainst  tliem, 
they  had  oomo,  and  enchanted  Helle  by  their  injoymi'iit 
and  admiration  of  her  lovely  home,  and  Ijer  lather  by 
their  own  eharms  of  apjiearanee  and  manner. 

Belle  Ashton  was  right  in  saying  that  her  father  loved 
Aldeane  (luthrie  from  the  first  moment  he  saw  her. 
There  was  something  about  the  ehild  whieh  irresistibly 
attracted  him.  It  was  the  same  with  most  jieople,  but  he 
did  not  know  that,  and  with  wonder  questioned  himself 
as  to  w  hat  it  eould  be  in  her  face  or  manner  that  so 
powerfully  intlueneed  him.  ' 

He  fancied  at  times  that  the  face  and  manner  were  not 
altogether  unfamiliar  to  him,  and  yet  he  was  certain  he 
had  never  seen  the  ehild  before,  and  at  last  referred  to  the 
apparent  familiarity,  by  the  real  sympathy  by  whieli  he 
was  attracted  toward  her  and  wliich  led  him  to  feel  and 
act  toward  her  as  an  old  and  attached  friend. 

And  this  feeling  was  increased  by  the  knowledge  he 


TION. 

!.  Ill'  (Vu\  sec  those 
M-  IW'llc  bail  writtoii 
hem  will,  and  cvi'ii 
H'l illation  to  make  ii 
wlicn  Hose  Cottnicc 
lorioiis  Humnicr  liail 
'  hpautiful,  he  liad 
n  lionu'  lor  the  vaca- 
)winp  that  the  doors 
larri'd  a<iainst  tlicm, 
!  by  tht'ir  onjoynu'iit 
■,  and  hor  lather  by 
niannor. 

that  hor  father  loved 
onieiit  ho  saw  lii-r. 
Id  which  irrenislibly 
I  most  ]>eoplc,  b\it  he 
•  questioned  liiinselt' 
I  or  manner  that  so 

ind  manner  were  not 
ct  he  was  certain  he 
at  last  referred  to  the 
mpathy  by  which  he 
1  led  him  to  feel  and 
•d  IVii'ud. 
v  the  knowledge  he 


A  L  l>  i:  A  X  K. 


21 


gained  of  hor  during  three  vacations  Hubsofniontiy  spent 
at  ins  lious,,  fur  i.fvor  once  duriiii,'  that   ]>rn,„l  had  Mrs 
Xevins  .larod  to  have  hor  .l.ildron  h..ino,  and,  oxoopt 
upon  rare  visits  to  IJoston,  she  never  saw  thvjni. 

I   iiavosaid  never,  hut   onoo,  iudood,  Arthur"  vontmod 
within  what  was  indeed  to  him  a  lion's  don,  and  that  was 
when,  luiving  liiiisiied  the  (M.urse  at   IVotosscu-  (Jronviiie'H 
ho    hositatod  as  („   (Wllnwing  his  mother's    instructions, 
which  wore  fur  him  t..  outer  cull,  .r,.  at  once,  for  h.- romom- 
borod  that  his  i.aternal  fortune  was  extromelv  small,  and 
tliat  Aldoane  was  altogotlur  un[)ruvidod  lor,  and  altliiMK'h 
had    he    boon   alone  in  the    world    ho    would   nut    have 
<loubted  for  a  moment  what  course  to  take,  ho  tluModit  it 
now  a    duty   which    ho   owed    Aldoane  to   retain  ~sulli- 
oiont  jiroporty  to  secure  hor  from  want,  and  therefore,  lu- 
•  lotorminod  to  see  his  mother  and  h^arn   hor   reasons  ihr 
advising  him  to  expend  all,  or  at  least  tlie  bettor  part  of 
what  he  possessed,  in  securing  an  education.    True,  up  to 
this  point— and  far  beyoml  it— he  had  ambitiously  desired 
to  lit  himself  for  tiie  practice  of  law,  and  Jie  knew  his 
mother   held   the    same   views    for    him,    but    prudence 
whispore.1  that  it  would  be  bettor  for  Aldoane  to  live  in 
peace,  beholding  her  brother  a  morohant's  clerk,  than  to 
struggle  with  poverty,  while  ho  was  eiuU.avoring— vainly, 
perhaps— to  open  a  way  to  liinie  and   aflluence  through' 
long  years  of  penury  and  obscurity. 
_    This,  in  substance,  he  said   to  i\[r.  Ashton  one  even- 
ing, during  the  soconil  vacation  spent  at   Rose  Cotta<rc 
and  announced  his  intention  of  going  homo  to  ascertain' 
the  exaot  jiosition  in  which  ho  stood.     This  Mr.  Ashton 
highly  aj.proved,  and  otlbred  him  the  best  horse  in  his 
stables  lor  the  journey. 

At  break  of  day  he  was  in  the  sad  lie,  bearing  a  hope- 
ful, joyous  heart  an<l  Aldeane's  t.-arfully  given  love 
toward  his  mother.  The  sun  rose  apace,  and  throw  the 
scorching  heat  of  August  upon  the  earth,  but  Arthur's 


22 


A  IDE  AXE. 


roiid  for  the  inoHt  p.irf  hiy  throutfh  \\w  woo.l«,  and  h« 
Joiiii.l  the  n<l«-  .l»'li<zhttiil,;in<l  with  the  ciilliusiiiMii  (.fl)()y- 
IkxmI  tlinnirlil  <>rili«'  liiiiiity  ai-.Miiiil  liiiii,  iiml  oflittli'  I'ls.- 
iiiilil  familiiir  olijtrts  chiiiiu-.l  Iuh  attcnlion  :iii<l  asHiir«'<l 
liiin  (hat  in-  was  «liavviiiji  lu-ar  honu'.  TIhtc  lay  the 
litlU'  villav,'!-  of  Ilayfuld  towanl  the  ri^ht,  and  ronHpifti- 
oiis  anion;^  its  iiiiiiihh-  dwi-lliiif,'H  arose  tho  wliitc-spiml 
••liiirfh  in  whi«h  hf  had  mo  otVon  Hat  lu-Hidf  his  niotliir  and 
nistor,  listrnini,'  wearily  to  tlio  in'osy  dis<  oursort  of  good 
ohl  EldiT  Maynard,  and  t lure,  a  little  farther  on,  was 
the  tall  tin^'er-post,  pointin-j;  wpeetrally  towanl  Uoston, 
and  tho  villa<,'e  hi-hind,  and  lastly  arose  in  the  distanee  the 
fall  ehinuievf*  and  the  gabled  roof  of  the  houHe  ho  had  for 
ten  yearn  ealled  hin  home. 

He  di<l  not  remember,  then,  liow  little  of  a  home  it  had 
been  to  hint,  or  how  the  ehildhood  whieh  might  have 
I)assed  joyously  within  it  had  been  made  a  i>eriod  of 
constant  terror  and  gloom,  nor  did  he  think  of  him  who 
liad  oeeasioned  this,  bnt  with  the  «oiv?  Mother  npon  bin 
lips,  as  it  was  within  bin  heart,  rnshe'l  into  the  hot 
kite'hen  in  which,  through  an  open  win.low,  he  bad  seen 
liis  mother  toiling. 

I'oor  sold,  how  overjoytnl  she  was  !  how  she  embraced 

Inm  and  wept  over  bitn  \    This  was  the  one  solo  drop  of 

joy  that  had  sweetened  her   bitcer  eup  for  month*.,  yet 

even  as  she  tasted   it  she   looked   around  with  sudden 

terror  that  it  would  be  dashed  from  her  lips. 

Arthur  noticed  it  with  a  j)ang  at  his  heart  that  showed 
its  presence  in  his  liice,  but  iie  would  not  speak  of  it. 
The  time  was  not  yet  come  to  dwell  upon  sorro^y,  for  bis 
mother,  in  a  low  voice,  was  rai)tur()U8ly  exclaiming,  how- 
tall  he  b^d  grown,  and  how  handsome,  and  how  good, 
too,  .she  was  sure.  And  then,  with  sudden  fear,  she 
asked  foi  .  Ideane.  Was  she  ill,  or  what  liad  brought 
lum  here  ? 

Artlinr  answered    smilingly  that  Aldeane  was  quite 


well,  a 


loved, 
stronpf 
leaving 
Iktc  on 
"  V. . 
painfull 
have  ha 
now." 

"  Wh 

natural 

"Oh, 

of  pride 

the  man 

"  Jonas 

care  tor 

excel  lent 

"  Yes, 

lion,  for 

feeling  s 

nierly.    ] 

"  lie  c 

ish  enouf 

love,  wlu 

"1  slu 

from  a  rii 

"Oh  d 

to  sehool 

kin's   lirn 

speculati( 

proved  e: 

"That 

aft'airs,"  i 

already  s 

mother,  y 

I  was  lef 


I  iho  wooils,  and  he 
(•  fiitliii>i!iMii  of  l)t)y- 
um,  iuiil  »i'  littli'  i'l>««' 
1  tent  ion  and  asKUi»'<l 
)nu'.  Tlurt-  lay  the 
n)j;l>f,  uiul  t(iiiH|)icu- 
OHi'  tlio  wliitt'-Hjiin'il 
wii'uU'  Ills  niotli*'!-  and 
V  dis('i)ur><c'rt  of  gixxl 
it  lie  farther  on,  wan 
■ally  towanl  r>oston, 
)Sf  in  the  diHtancf  thi- 
'  the  liouM'  he  liad  for 

it  tie  of  a  homo  it  had 

I  whirii   niijfht   have 

II  made  a  ])eriod  of 
he  think  of  him  who 

voiJ  Mother  upon  hin 
rushel  into  the  hot 
window,  he  had  seen 

s  !  liow  she  embraced 

s  tlie  one  soU'  drop  of 

r  enp  for  ni(tnlh(<,  yet 

around  witli  sudden 

I  her  lii)rt. 

liis  heart  that  showed 
ould   not  speak  of  it. 

II  upon  sorrow,  for  his 
ously  oxelainiini;,  how 
Isome,  and  liow  good, 
I'ith  sudden  fear,  she 
or  what  had  brought 

It  Aldeanc  was  quite 


well,  and  beeoniing  h.i.'Ii  a  neholar.  a..,!  was  so  nin.-h 
Iove.l.  Why,  h..  belii'ved  that  it  woiiM  breakeven  thn 
strong  heart  ..f  IVofessor  tJrenvilie  ifnhe  should  sp.j.k  ..f 
leaving  hini,  and  I  hen  he  a.lded  mure  gravel  v,  "  Ihit  I  eame 
Ji«'re  on  especial  l)UNiness,  mother.     Is  Mr.  Nt-vins  in  ?" 

"  Ves,"  NJie  answered,  her  eu|„r  coming  and  .r„i„,, 
painfully.  -  irpun  almost  any  ollurdav,  <larliiig,  I  would 
haveha.l  y„u  all  to  myself,  for  he  sehh.m  is  at  home 
now." 

"Who  takes  care  of  the  liirm,  then  ?"  was  Arthur's 
natural  (pu'stion. 

"  <  Ml,  y(.u  know,"  answered  Jiis  mother,  with  a  little  flasli 
of  i)ride,  which,  to  one,  knowing  her  history  and  that  of 
the  man  of  whom  she  spoke,  was  most  curicMis  to  behold, 
"Jonas  Nevins  was  always  too  much  of  a  irentleman  td 
•■are  for  the  details  of  a  farmer's  Vitv,  but' he  is  a  very 
excellent  business  man." 

"  Ves,  I  believe  that,"  returned  Arthur,  with  satisfac- 
tion, lor  he  hoped  from  his  mother's  tones  that  a  better 
feeling  subsisted  between  her  and  her  liusban.l  than  for- 
merly. But  she  divined  this,  and  (piiekly  undeceived  him. 
"  lie  certainly  is  doing  well  by  the  property  I  was  fool- 
ish enough  to  intrust  to  him,"  she  said,  "  but  I  doubt,  my 
love,  whether  it  will  ever  do  us  any  good." 

"1  should  not  think  he  would  ae.piire  much  wealth 
from  a  rugged  farm  like  this,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Oh  dear,  no ;  but  he  sold  a  part  of  it  just  as  you  went 
to  school,  and  drew  tliat  moiu'v  I  had  invested  in  Dur- 
kin's  firm  just  before  our  malriage,  and  entered  into 
speculations,  in  which  he  is  still  engaged,  and  which  have 
Itroved  exceedingly  remunerative." 

"That  is  fortunate,  mother;   but  now  about  my  own 
aflairs,"  and   he  repeated   at  some  length  what  h'e  had 
already  said   to   Mr.   Ashton,   concludiii!?,    "And    now 
mother,  you  have  told  me  often,  that  by  iny  father's  will 
I  was  left  five  thousand  dollars,  to  be  given  into  my 


24 


ALDEAFE. 


Innds  Avhon  I  arrivea  at  the  age  of  twenty-ono  an.l  that 

tean  Jule  I  was  tc.  ..  .auoatoa  and  supporte.l  Irora  the 

other  share  of  the  ].ropcrty." 

"  Y<.u  are  quite  ri^l.t,  my  .on,"  slu>  ansAvercO^ 
"Does  Mr.  Kevins  understand  this V"  asked  Aithm 

lookh..  intently  at  his  mother.     "And  ^."-    --;*;;  " 
tand  0.nt  this  ;ame  matter  of  .nyyor^  ^X^:''' ' 

Hlthou-h  she  >vas  not  mentioned  m  my  tathei  s  am  1 . 
"  S,e  was  not  born  until  sonve  montlm  alter  his  death, 

'^^^2Zr,  I  know  that ;  hut  does  Mr.  Nev- 
i.s  unde,-stan:i  what  he  is  bound  to  do  f.n-  me,  and  ex- 

''"it:^^  '^d^Mi:  Nevins,  fi™ly,  though  her  face  was 
verv  mle-  "he  understands  all,  perfectly,  and  he  is 
p  , W  o  fulfill  liis  duty.  He  is  pledged,  I  say,"  she 
^Jjit^d,  with  exeiteinent,  "  and  if  1  were  to  die  to-da> , 
you  and  AUie  will  be  safe." 
'   ;"";:;>k"^^::-^cl  her  funlvely,  and  drew  closer  to 

"  >ad  o    alive  he  daiis  not  deceive  me.     I  have  tha 
.vrSi  by  his  own  hand  that  would  ariBe  to  eondemn 

^"  S^o  furned'euddenly  away  from  him,  leaving  him  pale 
an^sta  Xd.  The  cJuse  of  her  warning  was  soon  ap- 
;^raman.ste^.a.h^-Pon^^ 

Arthur  knew  it  was  Mi.  ^  tv  ins  s ,  ne  ^^ 

„c,-, lugh  hi.  d«»  a.  least  ,va.  far  mo,e  hke  that  0.  a 


gentleman  tha 
not  aware  tliat 
cast  a  glance  t 
the  kitchen. 

"  She  did  no 
his  liand,  M'hic 
nnex])ected  by 
than  Jierself." 
"Ah!"  said 
ously. 

Mrs.  Nevins 

from  behind   hi 

perfectly  to  un< 

avoid. 

"Ah!"herei 

"Yes,"  return 

you  of  the  tern 

plied  as  well  to 

"Ah!"  repea: 

cing  curiously  a 

"  Now,  sir,"  e( 

if  you  intend,  o 

terms  of  that  wi 

"  Your  mothei 

sarcasm,  "  that  j 

by  this  time  bo  1 

pel  mc  to  observ 

"That  is  not  1 

"  and  even  if  it  v,- 

waste  my  little  p 

by  your  words,  o 

has  existed  betAV( 

if,  through  it  all, 

justice  to  her  el 

be  esteemed  by  t 

Nevins  looked 


mo,  and  tliat 
teii  iVoia  llic 

■red. 

•iked  Artluir, 

es  he  vuider- 

(S  to  Aides' ue, 

cr'swill?' 

er  his  death," 

oes  :Mr.  Nev- 
r  me,  and  cx- 

i  her  face  was 
iy,  and  he  is 
d,  I  say,"  she 
to  die  to-duy, 


Irew  closer  to 
jered  eagerly. 
?.  I  have  that 
e  to  condemn 

aving  him  pale 

;  was  soon  ap- 

poreh. 

id  trembled  too 

iwell.     "I  will 

Ills  mother,  and 

\rthnr  saw  that 
e  that  this  prep- 
(ol'tened  him. 
ungracious  man- 
re  like  that  of  a 


ALDEANE. 


25 


gentleman  than  Arthur  had  usually  belield  it  "I  was 
not  aware  that  your  n,other  was  expecting  you,"  and  ho 
cast  a  glance  the  reverse  of  pleasa.it  in  the  direction  of 
the  kitchen. 

"She  did  not  expect  me,"  returned  Arthur,  extendincr 
h.s  hand,  which  was  coolly  accepted.  "I  came  quite 
unexpected  by  her,  to  see  you  perhai,s  more  particularly 
than  Jierselt.'  ' 

oul'l"^^'"  '"^''^  ^^''  ^'"'""'  '""''"'^  ^'  ^'^  •■''^'^^•'  ^'"-i- 
Mrs  Nevins  came  to  the  door,  and  looked  at  him 
from  behind  her  .on  with  a  glance  which  he  seemed 
perfectly  to  understand,  and  which  he  was  powerless  to 
avoid.  ' 

"  Ah !"  he  repeated  once  more. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Arthur.  «  Of  course  I  need  not  remind 
jou  of  the  terms  of  my  father's  will,  and  tJ.at  they  a,> 
phed  as  well  to  his  unborn  child  as  to  myself" 

"Ahi;-  repeated  Mr.  Kevins  m  a  strange  voice,  glan- 
cing curiously  at  his  wife.  ^ 

"  Now,  sir,"  continued  Arthur,  respectfully,  "  I  ask  vou 
if  you  intend,  of  your  own  free  will,  to  carry  o.t  the 
terms  of  that  will  ?"  ^ 

"  Your  mother  tells  me,"  answered  Nevins,  with  quiet 
sarcasm  "that  you  are  to  be  a  lawyer;  if  so,  you  should 
by  this  time  be  lawyer  enough  to  know  that  vou  can  com- 
pel mc  to  observe  the  terns  of  that  will."     ' 
"That  is  not  to  the  point,"  returned  Arthur,  quietly 
and  even  If  it  were,  you  may  readily  suppose  I  would  not 
waste  my  little  patrimony  in  litjgation.     Now  bein<r  sir 
by  your  wonls,  obliged  to  refer  to  the  unhappiness  whieh 
has  existed  between  yourself  and  my  mother,  I  ask  you 
If,  through  ,t  all,  your  honor  leads  you  to  do  this  act'  of 
justice  to  her  children,  which  is  their  right,  but  would 
be  esteemed  by  them  a^favor  V" 
Nevuis  looked  at  him  for  some  moment*  with  motions 


AIDE  AN  E. 


„,,on  his  face  Avliich  oven  the  quick  eye  of  his  .lUc.stioiR.r 
loiihl  not  c-lvarly  ivad. 

»  You  huvo  a  bold  fare  a.ul  a  ready  lon-ue,  ho  said 
•It  hvsl  »  Y..(i  Mill  make-  a  -..od  lawyer ;  and  as  1  have 
'told  your  mother  beture,  I  am  perleetly  willing  you  sIumuu 
iH-eomc  one.     Your  hills,  and  Aldeane's,  will  he  didy 

lionored."  ..        .„   .,      , ,      ^ 

lie  looked  at  hi«  wife,  and  hit  his  hps  till  the  hlood 
started  "  I  am  goini?  to  I'.oston,"  he  said  sud(huly,  in 
the  midst  of  Arthur's  aeknowledgments,  and,  without  a 
word  more,  or  even  a  nod  of  his  head,  he  descended  the 
stops  and  walked  to  the  stables. 

I'resentlv  they  saw  him  gallop  down  the  roa<l. 
"I  am  so  -lad  to  have  you  to  myself!"  said  Mrs.ISov- 
ins  fondly,  leading  hi-r  son  into  the  sitting-room.     "  'i  ou 
will  stay  here  to-night,  darling,  and  sleep  m  your  old 

chamber."  ,       ,        ,    ,  •    • 

"  Yes  "  said  Arthur,  thoughtfully  ;  for  tliough  Ins  m- 
torviow'with  liis  step-father  had  terminated  much  niore 
a-rooably  than  he  had  dared  hope  it  would,  he  still  had 
the  painful  consciousness  that  Mr.  Kevins  had  consented 
to  do  his  duty  under  compulsion,  and  not  of  his  tree  will; 
and  more  than  once  that  aftenioou  he  spoke  of  rojocting 
his  aid  altogether,  and  of  taking  his  chances  in  the  world 
with  no  further  preparation  than  he  thou  possessed. 

But  his  mother  actually  shed  tears  when  ho  spoke  ot 
this,  and,  before  he  parted  from  her  upon  the  following 
morning,  made  him  promise  that  he  would  abandon  the 

wild  idea.  ,       ,      i    i 

And  upon  his  retuni  to  Mr.  Ashton,  that  clear-headed 
man  of  Ijusinoss  echoedliis  mother's  advice,  and  a  mouth 
later  Arthur  Guthrie  entered  college. 


< 
( 
I 

,s 

fl 
t 
t( 
h 

0' 

ei 

P< 
ff< 
fe 
sh 
ini 
m( 
th( 
wi 
ret 
at 

r 

anc 

to 

era 

whi 

Jier 


ANE. 


cinick  cyo  of  liis  <iiiestimuT 

1  a  loady  toii-^'uo,"  lie  saul 
;()(),1  Unvyir;  aiul  as  1  have 
l.orl'cc-tly  willinj^  you  slicuM 
kI  Aldeauf's,  will  hv  duly 

il  bit  his  lips  till  the  blood 
lostou,"  ho  said  Kuddi'uly,  in 
)\vU'd<riiK'iits,  and,  witlio\it  a 
his  head,  he  descended  the 
(les. 

allop  down  the  road, 
u  to  niysein"  said  Mrs.Kev- 
nto  the  sittinit-rooni.     "You 
ling,  and  sleep  in  your  old 

ightfully ;  for  thou<!;h  his  in- 
r  had  terminated  much  more 
ed  hope  it  would,  he  still  had 
at  Mr.  Kevins  had  consented 
ilsion,  and  not  of  his  free  will ; 
tenioou  he  spoke  of  rejectin«jc 
iking  his  chances  in  the  world 
1  than  he  then  possessed, 
shed  tears  when  he  spoke  of 
from  her  upon  the  followinj? 
se  that  he  would  abandon  the 

Mr.  Ashton,  that  clear-headed 
mother's  advice,  and  a  mouth 
ed  college. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

NEW   FACKS   AXD   NEW   FRIENDS. 

Gu^lS:  m  Slldc^f ;"  r  "^""^^^"^  ^'  Arthur 

<Iui..yastha:;^,Sc:'^^S^r^K^;^•;^«V^■ 

cnt  ways  and  diflorpnt  r,ln/  '  "*  ^^''^"*  '^"*«r- 

--a  ^n  the  hXJo  r^::r  rn^^^ 

^  and  encountered  all  difficulties  Jfth  a  w^ll'  *'^'"'' 
them,  and  thus  when  Aldeane  G  J  il  at  t^  177'^'' 
teen,  carried  wifli  Jm^  ♦ .  i>         «nuic,  at  tne  age  of  six- 

feel  in  but  few  ofl.T         -f   V  '  ''''*''  *  P"^«  ^e  covild 

fHe  i^netnh*;.;.:i,^^rrc;S,r:;  "'^  '-^'^ "  '^"' 

impressed  with  this  tharkn      •      ^'  ""■'■*'  '^  '»»«'» 

mestic  life  LUe  cd  h-  .?'''"'  '^^'^^^hing  of  her  do- 
the  academyln  w  i  i  Z  I  '1^*'""  '^  •'""*'^'-  ^^^^^^^^  i" 

-md  at  tl  p  n  ^'•"^^'■.7"  "^"'•^  b^'«utiful  with  every  year 
•piay  ucl,  and  elegant  osUunes,  which,  as  well 


28 


ALDEaNE. 


as  the  blonde  beauty  of  her  faee,  seemed  to  separate  her 
eompletely  from  the  plainly  dressed  figure  .v'hich  was 
conerally  to  be  found  at  her  side.  Yet  m  this  fi-ure,  and 
the  faee  belon-in-  to  it,  there  was  a  certain  beauty  Bueh 
as  had  marked  her  ehildhood-a  beauty  not  so  showy, 
observers  remarked,  but  which  would  certainly  prove 
more  lasting  than  that  of  the  belle  and  heiress,  Miss 

Ashton.  , 

They  said  of  the  latter,  too,  that  she  was  a  good- 
natured,  handsome  girl,  but  that  for  a  half  hour's  sensible 
chat  her  little  friend  was  infinitely  to  be  ]>reterred,  and 
that  if  one  would  hear  a  sonata  well  played,  or  a  song 
well  sung.  Miss  Aldeane  Guthrie  would  certainly  do  both 
for  YOU  if  asked  in  a  secluded  room,  where  her  touch  and 
her  voice  were  in  no  danger  of  being  destroyed  by  the 
gaze  and  the  comments  ofan  admiring  throng. 

So  those  two  friends,  so  different  yet  so  loving,  had 
each  her  certain  refutation  among  their  schoolmates  and 
friends,  and  especially  among  the  few  young  people  who 
had  shared  and  brightened  their  holiday  times. 

Chief  among  these  had  been  a  young  gentleman  named 
Morgan,  the  only  son  of  a  neighbor  of  Mr.  Ashton  s,who 
had  not  only  been  a  friend  and  playmate  of  belle  from 
her  babyhood,  but  Arthur's  friend  during  his  term  at 
college.  Having  graduated  the  year  before,  and  since 
that  pursued  the  study  of  medicine,  he  was  about  to  de- 
part for  Europe,  partly  to  continue  his  studies  at  the 
different  capitals  there,  and  partly  to  make  the  grand 
tour  for  his  especial 'pleasure.  ^     .       , 

Kathor  imfortunately  for  any  scheme  of  professional 
improvement  that  might  have  been  in  the  mind  of  Fred- 
eric Morgan,  his  proposed  companion  was  devoted, 
wholly  and  confessedly,  to  pleasure.  He  was  a  young 
rrc.ntleman  from  Canada,  the  nephew  and  heir  of  a  Mr. 
'Uaymond,  an  old  .ind  esteemed  friend  of  the  elder  Mr. 
INIor^an.     Until  this  summer,  when  he  came  to  Morgan 


^> 
tl 
t] 
ki 
hi 
til 
an 
lie 

to 
wa 
M'ii 

up 

sill 

der 

strc 

alsc 

sad. 

A 

thes 


NE. 


ICO,  soemcfl  to  poparatc  her 
drcsscil  figure  -which  was 
ido.  Yet  in  tliis  tii^uro,  and 
;  was  a  certain  beauty,  such 
I— a  beauty  not  so  showy, 
ich  would  certainly  prove 
;he  belle  and  heiress,  Miss 

;oo,  that  she  was  a  good- 
hat  for  a  half  hour's  sensible 
finitely  to  be  ])rcferred,  and 
»nata  well  played,  or  a  song 
hrie  would  certainly  do  both 
1  room,  where  her  touch  and 
r  of  being  destroyed  by  the 
1  admiring  throng, 
different  yet  so  loving,  had 
imong  their  schoolmates  and 
g  the  few  young  people  who 
•heir  holiday  times, 
pn  a  yoinig  gentleman  named 
cighbor  of  Mr.  Ashton's,  who 
and  i)laymate  of  Belle  from 
8  friend  during  his  term  at 
i  the  year  before,  and  since 
aedicine,  he  was  about  to  de- 
,  continue  his  studies  at  the 
a  partly  to  make  the  grand 

e. 

r  any  scheme  of  professional 
ivc  been  in  the  mind  of  Fred- 
id  companion  was  devoted, 
>  pleasure.  He  was  a  young 
ic  nephew  and  heir  of  a  Mr. 
>emod  frien<l  of  the  elder  Mr, 
cr, 


when  he  came  to  Morgan 


-A.LDEANE.  ^ 


30 


ALDEANE. 


all,  when  one  evening  there  came  into  liis  face  one  that 
was  utterly  new — perhaps  to  her  lace,  perhaps  to  her 

only. 

IJelle  Asliton  had  been  bantering  her  old  friend  \\\)o\\ 
the  probability  of  his  bringing  a  Avife  from  Europe,  and 
he  had  laughingly  replied  that  he  should  bo  loo  much  en- 
gaged in  study  to  think  of  such  a  thing,  but  that  doubt- 
less his  friend  llaymond  would  bring  home  some  fair 
creature  to  be  the  envy  and  admiration  of  all  her  trans- 
atlantic sisters. 

"I,"  exclaimed  the  young  man,  suddenly  looking  up, 
"  I  shall  never  marry." 

"Why  not,"  cried  Frederic  IMorgan,  while  the  young 
ladies  glanced  at  him  in  surprise. 

It  was  then  that  Aldeane  Guthrie  saw  that  strange, 
new  expression  rest  upon  his  face.  It  was  one  of  abject 
loathing.  Of  what  ?  of  himself?  of  marriage  ?  He  did 
not  say.  But  the  expression  had  been  upon  his  face,  and 
though  a  mischievous  smile  immediately  succeeded  it, 
Aldeane  had  seen  it  and  it  haunted  her  for  days. 

"  Oh,  I  see  you  were  joking, "  said  Frederic  Morgan, 
after  a  moment's  pause  for  Ids  answer,  "  but  I  warn  you 
not  to  speak  such  heresy  before  the  ladies,  it  won't  do, 
will  it,  Arthur?" 

"  I  must  confess,"  said  the  latter,  "  I  am  surprised  at  it, 
after  hearing  the  unbounded  admiration  he  expressed  for 
your  cousin  a  short  time  ago." 

"  Miss  Greyson  is  certainly  very  beautiful,"  said  Mr. 
llaymond  quietly. 

"  And  so  your  cousin  has  arrived,"  cried  Miss  Ashton, 
turning  toward  Frederic  Morgan.  "  What  a  tiresome  crea- 
ture you  are  not  to  have  told  me  about  her  before,  when 
you  know  I  am  so  anxious  to  hear  all  about  her !  Is  she 
pretty  ?" 

"You  have  heard  Raymond's  verdict,"  returned  her 
friend,  provokingly  evading  a  direct  reply.     "  Now  do, 


a 

th 
wl 
in 
ed 
ac 
wl 

th( 
ev( 
wh 
pic 

ma 
or 
par 
in  ( 
adr 

will 

tha 

tha 
<( 

Ash 


NE. 

lie  into  his  face  one  that 
lier  face,  perliaps  to  lior 

ering  her  old  frioncl  ujton 
a  Avit'e  from  Europe,  and 
ic  should  be  loo  much  en- 
1  a  thing,  but  that  doubt. 
Id  bring  liome  some  fair 
[miration  of  all  her  trans- 

aan,  suddenly  looking  up, 

INIorgan,  while  the  young 

<c, 

iuthric  saw  that  strange, 

ice.     It  M'as  one  of  abject 

If?   of  marriage  ?    lie  did 

ad  been  upon  his  face,  and 

mmediately  succeeded  it, 

nted  her  for  days. 

^, "  said  Frederic  Morgan, 

answer,  "  but  I  warn  you 

)re  the  ladies,  it  won't  do, 

tter,  "  I  .am  surprised  at  it, 
clmiration  he  expressed  for 

very  beautiful,"  said  Mr. 

rived,"  cried  Miss  Ashton, 
n.  "  What  a  tiresome  crea- 
me  about  her  before,  when 
lear  all  about  her !    Is  she 

d's  verdict,"  returned  her 
,  direct  reply.     "Now  do, 


T 


AIDE  AXE. 


!l 


pelle,  spare  mo  the  task  of  eulogizing  a  youn-r  Judv  -'.o 
IS  my  iUtlu.r's  «-ard,  and  therefore  n;ay,  Ibr  a^long  s'pia- 
sterliood,  l)e  left  to  my  tender  mercies." 

"You  provoking  creature,  I  don't  i)elieve  you  admire 
her  a  bit !"  cried  Miss  Ashton,  witli  perhaps  not  so  muel, 
indignation  at  this  circumstance  portruycMl  in  her  face  as 
perfect  generosity  would  Jiuve  admitted  of. 

"In.leed   I   do,"   returned    i^Iorgan    somewhat    more 

j       seriously.    "I   tliink  her  a  beautiliil  little  creature-  -is 

I      pretty-yes,  (piite  as  pretty  as  tluit  wax  doll  I  once  .r'av.. 

you."  •■'      ' 

"  Your  memory  must  be  excellent,"  returned  IJelle  svith 
a  blush  and  a  smile. 

"Oil  it  recalls  to  me  events  even  more  distant  than 
that,  he  re])hed  teasingly  ;  "I  can  remember  quite  wc'Il 
when  we  one  day  played  truant  together,  and  bein-  lost 
111  the  woods,  were  about  to  make  ourselves  a  iivin-r 
edition  of  that  picture  over  the  table,  and  the  robins  were 
actually  thinking  of  looking  for  leaves  to  cover  us  with 
when — " 

A  firm    pair  of  white   hands   over   liis   mouth,  and 
then  a  struggle  with  the  possessor  thereof,  durin<r  which 
everyone  laughed  a  great  deal,  except  Arthur  (luthvio 
who  for  some  reason  looked  very  red  and  not  at  all  well 
pleased. 

And  this  often  occurred  at  such  times  durincr  the  re- 
mamd..r  of  the  vacation,  without  his  at  all  knowing  whv 
or  any  other  person  appearing  to  notice  it.  He  wis 
particularly  fond  of  Frederic  Morgan,  who  as  his  senior 
in  college  had  oflen  been  of  great  service  to  him,  and  he 
admired  his  companion,  but  he  was  undeniably  pleaded 
when  he  bade  them  farewell  upon  the  deck  of  the  steamer 
that  was  to  bear  them  to  Europe  upon  the  day  before 
tliat  in  which  he  returned  for  his  last  year  at  Harvard 

And,  oh  dear,  I'm  dreadfully  lonely !"  sighed  Belle 
Ashton  upon  the  evening  of  that  day,  as  she  sat  alone 


88 


ALDEANE. 


with  her  friend  in  Iho  empty  parlors,  lookinp:  out  njwn 
the  moonlit  RcoiR',  and  Ahli'iuie  (Juthric  echoed  the  words 
in  her  heart  an<l  hent  her  eyes  that  none  iniglit  sec  the 
tears  that  glistened  in  tliem. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  JJelle,  after  a  silence  which  for 
her  was  very  long,  "  do  you  know,  I  don't  exactly  liko 
the  companion  Fred  li:>s  for  his  travels?  Mr.  George 
Raymond  may  be  very  handsome,  and  very  rich,  and 
very  excellently  educated,  l.iiL  there  is  something  about 
him  I  don't  like," 

"Why  surely  you  can  have  no  fault  to  find  with 
hira  ¥"  asketl  Aldeane,  in  her  usual  ready  defense  of  the 
absent.     "  1  am  sure  he  is  a  i)erfect  gentleman." 

"  Oh,  1  have  nothing  to  say  against  that,"  replied  Belle, 
"and  of  course  yon  phi>uld  defend  him,  for  he  is  very  liko 
your  brother,"  and  then  she  blushed  vividly,  and  laughed 
as  if  in  some  slight  confusion, 

"I  do  not  think  hira  at  all  like  Arthur,"  answered 
Aldeane,  "  except  that  ))Oth  are  dark.  But  now  that 
you  have  spoken  of  it,  Belle,  I  will  own  that  there  is  some- 
thing about  Mr.  Raymond  that  ])uzzlcs  me,  and  that  I 
really  wish  he  had  not  gone  with  Mr,  Morgan," 

"Mr,  Morgan  would  doubtless  thank  you  for  your 
solicitude,"  replied  Belle,  laughingly,  and  then  she 
suddenly  approached  her  friend,  knelt  down  beside  her 
and  clasped  her  arms  about  her  waist, 

"  Speaking  of  Frederic  Morgan  "  she  said  softly,  look- 
ing somewhat  doubtfully  into  the  eyes  of  her  friend,  "  I 
have  a  seci-et  to  tell  you." 

"  A  secret,"  asked  Aldeane  wonderingly,  and  then  as 
she  noted  the  changing  color  that  came  and  went  upon 
her  face,  she  added  archly,  "  can  it  be,  dearest,  that  he 
has  taken  your  heart  with  him  ?" 

"Oh,  no,"  she  replied  with  a  quick  laugh,  "but  it  is 
something  you  will  think  much  worse  than  that ;  he  has 
taken  the  portrait  you  had  taken  for  me  in  your  gradua- 


r 


tic 

tol 

in 

S!li 

ha 

slu 

so 

in 

cas 
ey. 
1 
the 
fou 
ure 
the 


•lors,  lookiiifX  out  upon 
ithric  c'l'hoiMl  tliP  words 
at  none  iiiiglit  st'c  the 

ler  a  silence  which  for 
w,  I  don't  exactly  iiko 
I  travels?  Mr.  George 
le,  anil  very  rich,  and 
ere  ia  Koniething  about 

no  fault  to  find  with 
ill  ready  defense  of  the 
ct  gentleman." 
inst  that,"  replied  IJclle, 
I  hiui,  for  he  is  very  like 
icd  vividly,  and  laughed 

like  Arthur,"  ansM-ered 
!  dark.  l>ut  now  that 
I  own  that  there  is  some- 
puzzles  me,  and  that  I 
Mr.  Morgan." 
SB  thank  you  for  your 
hingly,  and  then  she 
,  knelt  down  beside  her 
vaist. 

m  "  she  said  softly,  look- 
le  eyes  of  her  friend,  "  I 

)nderingly,  and  then  as 
lat  came  and  went  upon 
1  it  be,  dearest,  that  he 

quick  laugh,  "but  it  is 
worse  than  that ;  he  has 
1  for  me  in  your  gradua- 


T 


V 


ALDEANE. 


33 

I  rcalli/,  really 


tion  dress.     Pray  don't  be  angry,  love 
told  him  I  ooiildn't,  woHl(ln''t  spare  it." 

Al.leanc  (liitlirie  dropped  her  face  upon  her  hands  as  if 
in  sudden  fright,  and  ].resently  raised  it  erinisoued  as  she 
said,  "  It  was  wrong,  very  wrong,  Helle.  lie  would  not 
have  dared  to  do  it,  if  you  had  not  encotiraged  liini." 

"He  left  an  equivalent,"  returned  Belle  demurely,  as 
she  arose  and  kissed  her  friend,  "  lio  really  did,  he  was 
so  coiiseience-strieken  "  and  dropping  a  small  ivory  case 
in  her  lap,  Helle  glided  from  the  room. 

Aldeane  Guthrie  trembled  as  she  looked  at  the  little 
case,  and  not  daring  to  oim^u  it,  nor  to  leave  it  for  other 
eyes  to  see,  hastily  placed  it  in  the  pocket  of  her  dress. 

IJut  hours  later,  when  she  had  tremblingly  looked  upon 
the  bright,  handsome  young  face  portrayed  within,  it 
found  a  safer  resting-place— a  place  among  the  few  trcas- 
ures  possessed  by  her— and  who  shall  say  but  that  it  was 
the  most  precious  of  them  all. 

a* 


CHAPTER    V. 

BMAI.r   CnANOKS   AND  ONB  OUKAT  CIIANOE. 

Six  um-vfiitful  montlis  passod  by.  During  tlmt,  time 
Arthur  (JiUlirie  pur«tu'(l  liis  «tiulk's,  and  Aldi-ane  was  :i 
teacher  in  tlio  scliool  in  which  whc  liad  been  so  htnjjc  a  pii- 
l)il.  Sl\c  was  contented  witli  her  work  in  life  and  pursued 
it  steadily,  scUbun  yielding  to  the  temptation  which  existed 
for  her  to  draw  i)aiuful  contrasts  betwei'U  her  own  dull 
round  of  duties,  and  that  of  pleasure  foUowed  by  lier 
friend  Miss  Ashton. 

For  thouuh  the  one  was  a  poor  teacher  and  the  other 
a  beam  iful  hi'ircss,  they  were  friends  still— the  denrest  and 
tlic  b(-t,  and  it  was  Belle's  greatest  pleasure  to  spend  the 
long  >:iturday8  in  Aldeane's  little  room— the  same  they 
had  for  so  many  years  shared  together,  or  to  take  her  for 
a  long  drive  into  the  country,  where  they  could  talk 
together  cheerfully  of  the  happy  past,  or  hopefully  of  the 

future. 

Tlien  there  was  the  Christmas  week  passed  with  Arthur 
at  Rose  Cottage,  what  a  happy  time  that  was !  what  a 
Itreak  in  the  monotony  that  seemed  to  settle  for  the  win- 
ter blankly  upon  her !  and  then  to  be  broken  in  the  spring 
by  an  interruption,  that 'was  as  sudden  and  terrible  as  a 
thunderbolt. 

A  telegram  was  placed  in  her  hands  one  blustery  morn- 
ing in  March,  containing  but  six  words :  "  Your  mother  is 
dying,  come  home,"  and  in  an  hour  later  Aldeane  Guthrie, 
almost  wild  with  apprehension  and  dismay,  was  seated  iu 
a  stage-sleigh  and  was  on  her  way  to  lier  unloved  home. 


Il 


i 


il 
i 

a 

V 

ti 
1' 

V 

y 

81 

ci 
ai 

8( 

St 
St 

it 
oi 
si 
d. 
h< 
til 
lu 
it 


V. 

OUKAT   CIIANOB. 

l)y.  DiiriiiJ?  llmt  time 
dii'H,  and  Aldt'auo  was  a 
■  liiul  lu'oii  so  limj;  a  pu- 
work  in  life  and  pursntd 
ti'inptation  whioii  (!xi»trd 
1  bc'twoi'U  her  own  didl 
casure  followed  by  lier 

or  teacher  and  the  other 
ids  still — the  denrest  and 
•st  pleasure  to  spend  the 
le  room — the  same  they 
'ether,  or  to  take  her  for 
where  they  could  talk 
past,  or  hopefully  of  the 

week  passed  with  Arthur 
T  time  that  was !  what  a 
led  to  settle  for  the  win- 
0  be  broken  in  the  spring 
sudden  and  terrible  as  a 

lands  one  blustery  morn- 
words  :  "  Your  mother  is 
iir  later  Aldeane  Guthrie, 
nd  dismay,  was  seated  iu 
ly  to  lier  unloved  home. 


A  LD  i:a  X  E. 


85 


Unloved,  and  yet  so  eatterly  looked  lor.  "  Vonr  molluT 
is  dyinir,  c.mc  lioine."  Huu"  tl,..  words  l.iinied  into  l„.r 
l>r.iiii;  .111,1  iluMi  sin.  won.lcred  why  tlu  y  li.id  lucn  sent  to 
iicr  by  Dr.  Mn.iisun  instcid  of  ."Mr.  Neviiis,  .-ind  tinii  lirr 
hciirt  lail.d  licr  at  (lie  idea  of  meetiiii;  h.r  euld,  st.iii 
8te|>-rather,  and  then  as  she  th<)Ui,'lit  of  her  niothi'r,  was 
overwhelnie(l  with  ^'rief  iit  her  eondition. 

It  seemed  an  njjje  to  the  anxious  traveler,  ere  the  well- 
known  vilIaL;c  api.tared  in  view.  It  was  indeed  evenin.' 
and  almost  dark,  so  early  had  the  jrniy  twiiiirlit  hidd»'ii  in 
lis  eheerless  eloisti'i-s  tl,c  sunbeams  that  had  vainly 
struf;<rled  with  the  wiinl  and  wleet  for  existenee.  It  \mm 
ubout  ten  minutes' walk  from  the  viila-;e  to  the  farm,  l.iit 
although  Aldeane  was  almost  benumi>ed  with  cold,'  she 
was  j.reparing  to  start  briskly  forward;  when  some' one 
tonehed  Ikt,  and  h.oking  u|>  she  saw  Arthur,  unusually 
pale  and  grave,  standing  beside  her.  "  I  hoped,  almost 
expeeted,you  would  be  here  to  night,  so  I  eame  to  meet 
you,"  he  said  as  he  stoc.jK.d  to  kiss  her,  then  turned  away 
struggling  with  emotion,  absently  folding  Aldeane's  shawl 
closer  around  her,  for  she  shivered  in  the  cold  evening  air, 
and  with  a  leeling  of  undelined  alarm, 

"How  is  mother?"  she  (pieried  anxiously,  as  slie  ob- 
served his  emotion. 

He  drew  her  hand  within  his  arm,  walked  on  a  il-w 
steps,  and  then  answered,  "Aldeane,  she  will  never  led 
sorrow  or  pain  again.  I  trust  our  mother  is  in  lieaven." 
The  announeement  of  death,  no  dillerence  how  gently 
it  may  be  imparted,  or  however  well  we  may  considtr 
ourselves  prepared  for  it,  always  falls  ui)on'us  with  a 
shock.  Especially  did  it  upon  Aldeane,  for  unconsciously 
during  her  solitary  journey,  she  had  been  treasuring 
hopes  that  her  mother's  danger  was  exaggerated,  atid 
that  a  daughter's  loving  care  would  eventually  restore 
her  to  healtii.  "When,  then,  she  heard  that  she  was  dead, 
it  seemed  as  if  the  e(jld  jAIarch  wind  had  swept  all  the 


M 


A  LDEANK. 


hrightiicHH  txwiX  joyonBiioKS  awny,  nn<l  llint  life  was  liLo 
the  «lr(!ir,  Hiiowy  WiiHtc  luCon)  licr.  TfUilfSH  Holm  kIiooW 
luT  frniiif,  whicli  pcrccivinir,  Arthur  ciKlfuvoritl  to  cliaii!;*' 
to  n  more  lualtliy  tlovv  of  tcnrn,  by  ricoiiiitii)j^  the  liiht 
moini'iitH  of  the  (U-pnrti-d.  llo  had  rcc-civi'd  a  iiicnhii^'o 
thi'  prcviouH  anttrnoon  from  \\h'  onino  hniul  wliich  liml 
I>(>niu'il  ht-r  own,  ami  tukiiii;  tho  fvcriinj^  Htat^c  had  arrived 
that  iiioriiin};  to  Hiid  her  uneoiiHcious — dying  of  un  at- 
tack of  brain  fever. 

For  hours  lie  remained  hcHide  Iier,  lioping  for  one  look 
or  word  of  reeo^nition,  and  at  last  he  was  rewanled. 
{Suddenly  she  opened  her  even,  called  his  name,  whinpered 

brokenly,  "The  paper,  at  Mr.  *iv "  and  immediately 

ex])ired. 

The  doctor  and  Arthur  were  alone  witli  her  at  the  time, 
and  Aldeano  amid  her  grief  was  glad  that  this  was  so, 
that  the  man  who  had  darkened  ho  many  years  of  her 
mother's  life  was  not  present  to  cant  a  Bliadow  upon  her 
peaceful  death. 

By  this  time  they  had  rcacheu  the  house,  and  striving 
to  compose  herself,  Aldeane  suflfered  Arthur  to  lead  her 
into  the  sitting-room  in  which  wc  first  saw  them,  and 
there  standing  before  the  fire  was  Mr.  Nevins. 

lie  started  as  Aldeane  entered,  apparently  unable  to 
recognize  her,  but  when  she  said,  "Mr.  Kevins,  I  am 
Aldeane  Guthrie  "  at  the  same  time  extending  her  hand, 
ho  took  it  mechanically,  while  his  face  flushed  crimson, 
as  h  )  looked  upon  her.  lie  answered  curtly  her  inquiries 
concerning  his  welfare,  and  pointing  her  to  a  chair  by 
the  fireside,  left  her  and 'Arthur  alone,  saying  he  Avould 
order  some  refreshment  for  hi"r.  His  manner  was  almost 
kind,  and  as  she  sank  upon  t»'C  seat  he  h.-xd  designated, 
she  asked  herself  the  question,  "Have  we  not  judged 
him  too  harshly  ?  Perhaps  it  is  only  his  manner,  his  heart 
may  be  good." 

At  this  stage  of  her  reflections,  she  was  interrupted  by 


r 


A 

Wi 

sh 

lai 

wl 

niM 

hei 

wli 

l.al 

tea 

diti 

sun 

the 

I 

whi 

by-i 

The 

witl 

SOIll 

as  t 

face 

a  h.i 

avoi 

A 

disc( 

smili 

yean 

heart 

look 

unrel 

she  ] 

dernt 

gaze 

besid 

with 

mour 


ALDEANR. 


,  niul  tlint  life  wnn  liko 
r.  Ti'iirlfRH  Hdlm  kIiooU 
iir  ciKlt'iivoritl  to  cIiaiiL;*' 
,  by  ri'<'<iuiitii)i^  the  liiht 
lail  rccc'ivfil  a  nu'RHUf^o 
itnino  hntul  wliu-li  liiiil 
rcniiig  Htatje  hud  anivo<l 
Hciou8 — <lying  of  un  ut- 

liiT,  liojiiiijj  for  one  look 

last  he  wttn  rcwanltfl. 

llo<l  his  iiaino,  wliiHjU'n'd 

"  and  ininii'diattly 

)np  -nitli  lior  at  the  titnr, 
I  phid  tliat  tliiH  was  so, 
I  HO  many  years  of  her 
L'iiKt  a  Bliadow  upon  licr 

the  house,  and  striving 
red  Arthur  to  lead  her 
vc  first  saw  them,  and 
1  Mr.  Nevins. 
1,  apparently  unable  to 
id,  "Mr,  Kevins,  I  am 
me  extending  her  hand, 
is  face  flushed  crimson, 
ered  curtly  her  inquiries 
iting  her  to  a  chair  by 
alone,  saying  he  would 
His  manner  was  almost 
seat  he  had  designated, 
"  Have  we  not  judged 
[ily  his  manner,  his  heart 

she  was  interrupted  by 


87 


A    h„r,  who  forced  her  to  ,bi„k  a  glass  of  wine,  for  she 
^as  look.ng  eKceed.Mgiy  pale  and  haggard,  and  inde..d 

s    ■  was  ,,„„e   a.nt  In.n.  inanition  an.l  fa.igu..      She „ 

•laMde  her  heavy  wrappers,  and  ...deavored  ,o  .at  of 

.  <-d  stn.„gth   or  the  many  trials  that  it  would  y.-t  bo 

lot  to  pass  through.     M,.t  wh,.n  she  thought  ,  f  her. 

..  v..uld  have  weieonu..!   her  h.une  so  gi.adly,  ,vi„.; 

'••''"  "•"    •"amn.ate  in   the   ehan-L.T  above,   he     risini: 

K.,lt>    alter  havn,g  eaten  a  little,  that  she  eo„ld   per- 
the'li;.:]  "'"  ^'^  "'"•>'  '"'^'  "•'•"  '^  '-J^  at 

Atl.T  a  little,  th.y  ascended  the  cold  staireas,.,  thro,.c.h 
wuoh  the  wind  was  whistling.  Just  as  it  used  'to  d.,  1. 
by-go„o  years,    and   stood    without  the  death-chamber. 
J  he  door  w.as  a  little  ajar,  and   they  saw  Mr.  Nevins 
w.  hm,  stan.l.ng  at  the  bureau,  apparently  searching  for 

as  they  entered,  and  turne.l  towanl  them,  hi„  tl„she.l 
<Hce  wearing  a  look,  half  .lefiant,  half  frightened.     W 

avoSinr"''  '"  ''■*'  ''"  ^"^"''  "'■^'"""-•y  ""-»-  to 
Ai,proaching  the  bod,  Arthur  drew  down  the  sheet  an.l 

sX'i:  t^"/? ''  '•"  '''''''^  "^«*h-'  peaceful ::; 

vea  s  °  xl  ^""l  »"tT""Wed  sleep  she  had  known  for 
years.  A  sense  of  painful  desolation  fell  u,,o„  Aldeane's 
hc^-t  as  she  gazed  upon  the  white,  upturned  face,  w  !  so 
look  Mas  changeless  at  her  presence.  It  seemed  as  if  an 
unrebnting  hand  was  snapping  her  very  heart-strings  as 
Hhe  pressed  her  lips  to  those,  so  unresponsive  to  tlurten- 

ZToi  ti?  *"r\T«"^'-^>''  -^1— teredthe 
ga/o  of  those  who  had  returned  to  their  lonely  watch 

w=tlhl'rir-     "^^^-■f  to  them  was  .aer^>d:  a;d 
mo™!  ^  "'"^''^""^  '''^^  «*«-^  -^^^'  to  let  the 


88 


ALDEANE. 


Aldoane  was  very  tired,  grief  and  fatigue  l-.ad  severely 
tried  her  frame,  ami  not  wishing  to  return  to  the  witling- 
room  slie  turned  aside  to  her  own  room,  and  entering, 
found  a  iire  burning  briglitly  upon  the  liearth  she  only 
remembered  as  dark  and  cheerless.  A  servant  was  busily 
engaged  in  arranging  the  room  for  her  reception.  She 
looked  at  Aldeane  with  some  curiosity  as  she  entered,  and 
after  a  stare,  prolonged  to  such  a  length  that  its  object 
became  quite  uneasy,  said  : 

"  May  be  you're  her  daughter  ?"  pointing  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  room  in  which  Mrs.  Nevins  lay. 
Aldeane  articulated  a  faint  "  Yes," 
"  Ail !  I  thought  so, "  continued  the  M'oman  loqua- 
ciously.    "  You  look  som.?  like  her,  and  'twill  be  a  bless- 
in'  for  you  if  you're  had"  as  good.     She  was  a  powerful 
nice  woman,  to  be  sure.     I've  heard  her  speak  of  you 
often,  and  of  her  son,  too.     She  was  'mazin'  proud  of 
him.     Dear  !  dear  !  it's  a  good  mother  you've  lost— laws 
a  me,  it  does  seem  dreadful  that  she's  dead  and  gone. 
But  I  didn't  mean  to  make  you  cry,  miss.     Now,  do 
cheer  up  !     We  must  all  come  to  it  sooner  or  later,  and 
we  all  know  she  was  ready  for  it.     Can't  I  do  any  tiling 
more  for  you  ?"  she  queried,  '  >oking  around  the  warm, 
cosy  room  with  an  air  of  pride. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Aldeane,  "  you  may  send  my  brother  to 
me.  Ask  him  to  come  up  to  my  room,  and  to  bring  with 
him  some  paper,  pens,  and  ink,  and  then,  as  you  ha\e  got 
every  thing  so  nice,  I  shall  not  need  you  any  more  to- 
night." 

"  Very  well,  ma'am," 'said  the  really  kind-hearted  girl. 
"  As  you.  don't  want  me  any  more  I'll  go  'long  down  and 
see  how  the  Avidderer  is  a  comin'  along.  Nice  man  he  is, 
to  be  sure!  Mighty  sorry  she's  dead,  I  reckon.  He 
hasn't  wanted  her  dead  ever  since  I've  known  'em  !  Oh  ! 
no,  of  course  not !"  and  she  smiled  ironically  as  she  left 
the  room,  leaving  all  the  bitter  feelings  that  had  been 


c 

■\ 

fi 
d 

d 
tl 
di 

v< 
to 
h( 

m 
til 

de 

SUi 

as 
]{c 
lie 
bu 
syi 
lie.i 
her 
wri 
tioi 
lett 
wh; 
of: 
Ale 


pro 
thin 


upon 


NE. 

[  and  fatigue  liatl  severely 
sr  to  return  to  the  »lt ling- 
own  room,  and  entering, 
.  the  hiarth  she  only 
A  servant  was  bu^<ily 
I  for  her  reeeption.  !She 
iriosity  as  she  entered,  and 
h  a  length  that  its  object 

)v  ?"  pointing  in  the  direc- 

Nevins  lay. 

Yes." 
;inued  the  M'oman  loqua- 

her,  and  'twill  be  a  bless- 
;ood.  She  was  a  powerful 
;  heard  her  speak  of  you 
»he  was  'niazin'  proud  of 
L  mother  you've  lost — laws 
hat  she's  dead  and  gone. 

you  cry,  miss.  Now,  do 
i  to  it  sooner  or  later,  and 
[•  it.  Can't  I  do  any  tiling 
'  >oking  around  the  warm, 

ou  may  send  my  brother  to 
ny  room,  and  to  bring  with 
,  and  then,  as  you  ha\e  got 
ot  need  you  any  more  to- 

hc  really  kind-hearted  girl, 
iiore  I'll  go  'long  down  and 
tin'  along.  Nice  man  he  is, 
she's  dead,  I  reckon.  He 
ince  I've  known  'em  !  Oli ! 
smiled  ironically  as  she  left 
;er  feelings  that  had  been 


T 


ALDEANE. 


39 


composing  themselves  to  rest,  battling  in  Aldcane's  heart 
AMth  renewed  vigor  at  tlu-so  signiti.-ant  words 

Arthur  soon  appeared,  bringing  with  him  th(>  article's 
sheJ.a.l^nu-nt.oned,  asking  fbr  what  purpose  they  were 

"To  write  to  IJelle,  of  course,"  answered  Aldeano 
c  rawing  her  chair  near  the  table,  and  absently  examitr: 
the  paper.  "  I  am  nearly  worn  out,  already  1  Mother'':; 
death  was  such  a  dreadful  shock  to  me.  It  seems  bu 
to'te  ;;''  that  I  saw  her  well  and  happy.  Belle  remlrS 
hi" Iw"'  '  ""'''  ^''^'^'-     ""'' '  '  -'^''  «•-  -- 


"  I  wish  she  w%as,"  replied  Arthur.     "  But 


it  is 


mucj  use  for  you  ;o;;i;;toi;;*';:eomrr, ;:;;:: 

tlun^  she  could  reach  here  until  the  day  after  the  funeS 

^hveVf  r  ^;  '''  -7"^^"-"^^''  ro"  know.  I  .vished  it 
delayed  a  day  longer,  but  Mr.  Kevins  would  not  listen  to 
such  a  proposal." 

"  I  presuine  he  desires  us  to  leave  the  house  as  quickly 
as  possible,"  returned  Aldeane,  bitterly.     "  I  shall  fro  to 
iose  Cottage  before  I  return  tA  school  so  I  w    tr£   c 
IMle  and  tell  her  of  our  affliction,  for,  indeed,  I  ^1:^2 
burden     ny  Jieart   to  some  one,  and   she,  I  know   will 
sympatln.e  with  me.     There  is  a  load  of 'sorrow  in  my 
heart  which  it  seems  as  if  I  shall  always  carry  with  me 
her  commiseration  m.ay  Hghten  it,"  and  she  be^an  to 
ZT'f  ,f  •■^'^"^f  t  meditating  in  silence  until  the  cessa- 
litter  wt'  r^'^  ^^ratching  of  the  pen  denoted  that  the 
le  ter  was  finished.     He  read  tlie  offered  ej.istle;  then 
while  she  sealed  and  directed  it,  fell  agaili  into  a  "t 
of  musing,  which  lasted  until  a  deep-drawn  sigh  from 
Aldeane  aroused  him. 

in^ ff  tnl'r"''',''  ^'"'*? ""^'"'^'^^  "  ^  ^'^''' ^""^  think- 
ing of  mother's  last  words,  and  I  car  not  but  think  it 

providential  that  they  were  not  heard  by  Kevins  for  I 

think  that  paper  is  some  disclosure  concerning  liim." 


40 


ALDEANE. 


"  Some    disclosure,   Arthur,"   said   AhleaiH-,   wondcr- 

ingly. 

"  Yes,"  he  returned,  "  I  have  heen  t^iinkins  of  him 
much  of  late,  and  I  have  a  thousand  suspicions  of  liini— *aU 
unjust,  perliaps,  but  very  real.  You  do  not  believe  iu 
natural  antipatliies,  I  believe,"  he  asked,  turning  towanl 
lier  suddenly. 

"  No,  I  do  not  think  I  do,"  she  answered,  hesitatingly. 

"  But  I  can  assure  you,  Aldeane,"  continued  Arthur, 
earnestly,  "  that  a  natural  antipathy  exists  between  that 
man  and  me,  and  the  only  barrier  that  stood  between  our 
hatreds  is  f^one.  I  am  passive  still,  I  can  not  but  V)e  pas- 
sive, but  he  will  work — he  is  working  even  now.  I  feel  it. 
I  know  it.  I  am  awaiting  liis  attack.  My  mother  knew 
it  would  come.  That  paper  in  Lawyer  Evans's  hands  is 
to  prepare  me  for  it." 

"  You  are  excited  and  nervous,  to-night,"  said  Aldeane, 
soothingly.  "  The  events  of  the  day  have  been  too  much 
for  you,  dear  brother.  I  can  not  think  that  Vm.  Neviiis 
will  injure  us,  for  in  injuring  you  he  injures  me.  Wo 
will  never  be  divided,  brother." 

"  Thank  yon  ft)r  that  promise,  my  darling,"  he  said, 
kissing  her  fondly.  "  I  will  remember  that,  whatever 
happens."  And  years  afterward  he  did  remember  it; 
years  afterward  when  she,  perhaps,  had  forgotten  that 
she  had  ever  uttered  it. 

He  left  her  then,  taking  her  letter  with  him,  promising 
to  send  it  by  a  man  who  would  pass  Rose  Cottage  the 
next  day. 

After  a  8lce])le8S  niicht  Aldeane  descended  to  the 
sitting-room,  where  she  exchanged  formal  good-mornings 
with  Mr.  Nevins,  after  which  he  questioned  her  in  an 
interested  manner  concerning  her  school,  her  position,  and 
many  minor  details,  all  of  which  greatly  surprised 
Aldeane.  Naturally  frank  and  unsuspicious  herself,  she 
always  believed  others  possessed  of  tlie  same  qualities, 


r 


bu 
foi 
ne: 

sell 
thii 
in  1 
i 
tre; 
mo 
hot 
eon 
tak( 
she 


at 

of] 

hon 

A] 

and 

lear 

wit  1 

ecnn 

prou 
thee 

Tl 

the  i 

deUc 

perc( 
draw 

prect 
she  V 

Al 

])itifu 
shoul 

plent 
lately 

siiid   AldeaiH',   wondcr- 

hoon  t'.iinking  of  him 
\(\  suspicions  of  liim — 'all 

You  do  not  believe  in 
c  asked,  turning  towanl 

B  answered,  hositatinsjly. 
ane,"  continued  Arthur, 
ithy  exists  between  that 
r  that  stood  between  our 
ill,  I  can  not  but  V)e  pas- 
king  even  now.  I  feel  it. 
tack.  My  niotlier  knew 
Lawyer  Evans's  hands  ia 

,  to-night,"  said  Aldeane, 
day  have  been  too  much 
)t  think  that  V.v.  Nevins 
on  he  injures  me.    We 

se,  my  darling,"  l»c  said, 
Mnember  that,  whatever 
rd  he  did  remember  it; 
lajis,  liad  forgotten  that 

tter  with  him,  promising 
[  pass  Kose  Cottage  the 

eano  descended  to  the 
ed  formal  good-mornings 
le  questioned  her  in  an 
•  school,  her  position,  and 
rhich  greatly  surprised 
unsuspicious  herself,  she 
d  of  tlie  same  qiaalitics, 


ALDEAKE. 


41 


but  as  slie  looked  upon  the  man  before  her  it  was  impossible 
for  her  to  .l.vest  herself  of  the  conviction  that  his  kind- 
ness was  all  assunuNl  to  serve  some  vile  purpose 

He  at  length  .-.sked  her  how  she  would  like  to  exchange 
school-teaching  fur  housekeeping,  hinting  verv  plainly 
tha  he  considered  it  her  duty  to  take  her  mother's  place 
in  the  household. 

Al.leane  would  also  have  thought  so,  had  he  ever 
treat.,!  her  with  the  interest  an<l  affection  due  her  as  her 
mo  her  s  child.  But  as  he  had,  on  the  contrarv,  treated 
both  Arthur  and  herself,  heretofore,  witli  the  inost  bitter 
contempt  and  dislike,  she  felt  under  no  obligations  to 
take  the  place  of  a  housekeeper  under  his  control.  So 
she  replied  that  "she  must,  of  course,  linish  out  her  vear 
at  school,  and  besides  that,  she  was  perfectly  ignorant 
of  liousehold  details,  and  that  she  would  be  of  no  use  at 
home." 

Mr.  Nevins  did  not  seem  at  all  bafHed  or  discouraged 
and  returned,  that  as  for  that  matter,  she  would  sw.n 
loarn  all  that  was  necessary,  and  he  would  supply  her 
with  good  servants-that  she  ought  to  practice  domestic 
ecuomy,  for  he  supposed  some  fine  city  beau  had  got  her 
prcn.sc  already,  and  if  not,  that  there  were  plenty  in 
the  country  that  would  bo  g.ad  enough  to  get  lier 

The  hght  bantering  tone  in  which  he  spoke,  as  well  as 
the  speech  itself,  sounded  exceedingly  heartless  and  in- 
debcate  to  Aldeane.  A  slight  sneer  curled  her  lip,  which 
perceiving,  Mr.  Nevins  endeavored  to  dispel  by  suddenly 
drawing  out  his  purse  in  a  most  unaccountable  and  un- 
precedented fit  of  liberality,  and  asking  her  how  much 
she  would  require  to  obtain  mourning  garments 

Aldeane's  lieart  swelled  with  a  feeling  of  scorn  at  this 
pitiful  bribery,  and  with  iiulignation  and  shame  that  she 
should  be  Its  object.  She  replied  proudly,  that  she  had 
plenty  of  money  for  the  purpose,  as  her  salary  had  been 
lately  paid  her. 


43 


ALDEAKE. 


T 


Mr.  Ncvius  re]>lacc(l  his  purso,  witli  a  look  of  gratifica- 
tioii,  and  as  Art liiir  cmUtcmI  sat  down  to  tlic  brcaklhst- 
tal)li'  scaiToly  lu-odinu;  his  sahitation.  The  nii-al  was 
l)as,s('d  in  siiiMu-i',  !ind  soon  after  it  Avas  ended,  the  host 
left  them,  seeming  ill  at  ease  in  Arthnr's  presence;  they 
could  not  hut  notice  this,  and  with  feelin>:;s  of  deej)  dis- 
trust noted  it  down  as  evidenee,  that  he  contemplated 
some  mischief  aj^ainst  Arthur,  which  would  of  course 
also  involve  Aldeane.  Its  exact  nature  they  taxed  their 
minds  to  the  utniost  limits  of  conjecture  to  ascertain,  but 
could  in  no  degree  determine.  Arthur's  visit  to  the 
lawyer  had  b<'en  made  to  no  purpose,  lie  was  danger- 
ously ill,  and  at  such  a  time  when  his  death  was  moment- 
arily exj)ected,  his  son  could  not  be  consulted  upon  any 
business  matter,  liowevcr  urgent.  So,  unwillingly,  Arthur 
was  obliged  to  postpone  the  iiiquiries  and  investigations 
lie  had  determined  to  nmke.  He  was  assured  of  the  hearty 
assistance  of  his  old  friend  Charles  Evans,  and  was  con- 
tent to  let  the  matter  rest  for  a  short  period. 

Mourning  garments,  by  Arthur's  orders,  liad  been  pre- 
pared at  the  village  for  Aldeane.  With  a  sad,  and  heavy 
lieart  she  ajjpeared  in  them  at  her  mother's  biuial,  and 
bent  over  the  yawning  grave  in  which  was  soon  inclosed 
that  one  who  through  life  had  so  fondly  cherished  her. 
Ah,  Aldeane,  well  might  you  bewail  that  tender  mother. 
With  her,  was  liome,  and  peace,  and  love  all  buried. 

There  was  left  the  walls  of  strangers,  and  their  shelter 
and  kindness,  nothing  more,  sad  hei'rt,  nothing,  nothing 
more. 

And  what  for  Artluir?  Scarcely  these  in  such  full 
measure  as  came  to  Aldeane,  but  full  measure  to  over- 
flowing of  the  world's  cimiity  and  hatred,  and  he  knew 
that  the  hand  to  mete  it  out  to  him  would  be  that  of  his 
step-father,  Jonas  Nevins. 


TE. 

,  with  a  look  i)f  gratifica- 
clown  to  tlic  brcaklhst- 
itatiuii.  The  im-al  was 
r  it  was  ciulol,  tlie  lio^t 
Arthur's  prost'iieo ;  thoy 
rith  tVoliuj:;s  of  <li'i'])  dis- 
0.  that  lie  coutt'injilatrd 
which  would  of  course 
;  nature  they  taxed  their 
njecture  to  ascertain,  but 
Arthur's  visit  to  the 
iirpose.  lie  was  daiiger- 
■u  his  death  was  niomeut- 
t  be  consulted  upon  any 
,  So,  unwillingly,  Arthur 
[uiries  and  investigations 
was  assured  of  the  hearty 
rles  Evans,  and  was  con- 
short  ])eriod, 

ur's  orders,  liad  been  ]tre- 

With  a  sad,  and  heavy 

her  mother's  burial,  and 

which  was  soon  inclosed 

80  fondly  cherished  her. 

BWfiil  that  tender  mother. 

and  love  all  buried. 

rangers,  and  their  shelter 

d  heart,  nothing,  nothing 

rcely  these  in  such  full 
•ut  full  measure  to  over- 
md  hatred,  and  he  knew 
him  would  be  that  of  his 


CITAPTER    VI. 

WHAT  Anxiiru's  cautiok  availed. 

The  morning  after  the  funeral,  Mr.  Xevins  informed 
Arthur  that  lie  desired  an  interview  of  five  minutes  with 
hun,  and  that  he  should  advise,  but  not  insist,  that  Aldeano 
should  be  absent. 

Never  perhaps  were  two  men  more  directly  contrasted 
than  the  two  she  left  together  at  the  breakfast-table 
rising  after  pouring  tlic  coffee  and  excusing  herself  ni.on' 
the  p  ea  of  a  violent  headache,  which  was  indee.l  more 
rral  than  such  excuses  generally  are.  Jonas  Nevins  had 
of  late  rapidly  grown  old,  with  such  age,  as  deep  and 
anxious  care,  and  doubtfully  held  prosperity  often  brin<^s. 
\U  looked  nervously  at  the  young  man  opposite  him  as 
If  measuring  his  strength  both  of  body  and  mind 

'lou    are  a   handsome   fellow,"  he  said   at   len-th 
Yo-r  mother  did  well  to  be  proud  of  her  only  clnhf" 
Her  only  child!"  exclaimed  Arthur.    "Is  Aldeane 
tlien  not  my  sister  ?" 

"Wliat  a  sharp  lawyer  this  man  will  make,"  cried 
Kevins  in  affected  admiration,  "to  have  had  his  father's 
will  before  his  eyes  all  these  years  and  never  to  liavo 
suspected  that !" 

Arthur  looked  at  him  in  dumb  amazement  which  ha.l 
not  ong  m  it  any  clement  of  unbelief,  for  su.hh'nly  a 
hundred  things  which  had  puzzled  him  were  explained. 
Jiut  If  Aldeane  was  not  his  sister,  who  was  she? 

This  was  the  first  question  he  found  breath  to  ask,  and 


44 


ALDEANE. 


m  Ncvins.  l.olia.l  boon  watching  him  narrowly  as  if  to 
learn  whotlior  the  inform:.tion  ho  volunl.Hn-oa  vvas  uulood 
new,  answero.1  him  readily,  "The  e.act  relationship 
existing  between  you  and  the  young  lady  I  can  not 
explain.     However  I  believe  there  is  some  relationslnp. 


'Do   you  mean 


to  say,  sir,  that   my  mother  never 


explained  it  to  you?"  asked  Arthur  doubtfully,  thinking 
to  himself  that  doubtless  the  paper  she  had  left  with  the 
lawyer  would  do  so  fully  to  him. 

"You  know  your  mother  was  not  inclined  to  trust  mc 
voluntarily  with  any  secret,"  answered  Nevins,  shrugging 
his  shoulders,  ami  taking  a  position  with  his  back  to  the 
fire,  whence  he  looked  at  Arthur,  who  toyed  with  his  cup 
and  spoon  thoughtfully.  "  Of  course,"  he  continued  with 
a  smile  of  triumph,  "  she  could  not  long  deceive  me  as  to 
Aldeane's  real  position."  ,, 

« I  can  not  imagine  how  I  have  been  bUnd  so  long, 
mused  Arthur,  and  then  he  hurriedly  said  something  of 
the  necessity  of  keeping  this  from  her. 

"  W  V  as  to  that,"  said  Mr.  Nevins  very  coolly,  I  was 
about  t.  .ecommend  to  you,  that  she  be  told  immediately, 
that  she  may  ot  once  recognize  the  iact  that  she  has  no 
claim  upon  you." 

«  You  mistake,  sir,"  answered  Arthur  lifting  his  head 
and  looking  at  him  proudly.  "  Aldeaiie  has  every  claim 
upon  me.    I  consider  her  a  sacred  trust  left  to  me  by  my 

dead  mother."  . 

«  Estimable  woman !"  said  Mr.  Nevins,  with  a  little  sigh 
and  another  shrug  of  his  shoulders.  "Very  estimable 
woman,  but  mistaken  on  some  points.  For  instance,  I  think 
she  should  have  explained  Aldeane's  position  to  you. 

Arthur  coincided  in  this  opinion  more  closely  than  ho 
could  remember  having  ever  done  with  any  expressed  by 
Mr  Nevins  before,  but  he  said  nothing,  and  his  step- 
father continued :  "  I  hope,  at  least,  young  man,  that  she 
informed  you  perfectly  of  yours." 


a 

it 
a; 
in 
te 

in 
WJ 

hn 

bli 
clii 
vil 

est 
he 

tio 
sat 
tin 

obi 

pat 

(< 

to  ( 
fair 
him 
in  ( 
you 


ling  him  narrowly  as  if  to 
e  volunU'orod  was  inflocd 
'Tlic  e;:act  relationsliip 
3  young  lady  I  can  not 
LTf  in  some  ri'lationsliip." 
,  that  my  motlu»r  never 
thur  doubtfully,  thinking 
iper  she  had  left  with  the 

a. 

18  not  inclined  to  trust  mc 
iswered  Nevins,  shrugging 
iition  with  his  back  to  the 
ir,  who  toyed  with  his  cup 
lourse,"  he  continued  with 
not  long  deceive  me  as  to 

lave  been  blind  so  long," 
irriedly  said  Bomethuig  of 
rora  her. 

sjevins  very  coolly,  "  I  was 
at  she  be  told  immediately, 
ze  the  fact  that  she  has  no 

ed  Arthur  lifting  his  head 
"  Aldeanc  has  every  claim 
jred  trust  left  to  mo  by  my 

Ir.  Nevins,  with  a  little  sigh 
oulders.  "Very  estimable 
points.  For  instance,  I  think 
Icanc's  position  to  you." 
inion  more  closely  than  ho 
lone  with  any  expressed  by 
aid  nothing,  and  his  step- 
;  least,  young  man,  that  she 
u-8." 


ALDEANE, 


45 


'I  think  I  can  hardly 


Arthur  glanced  at  liim  keenly, 
be  mistaken  as  to  that,"  he  .<aid. 

Mr.  Nevins  nodded  gravely,  and  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  well-filled  wallet.  "  Of  course,"  lie  said,  as  he  opeiu-d 
It,  "you  are  prepared  to  acknowledge  these  cluuns  ]  hold 
agamst  you?"  and  he  i)hiced  before  the  astonislied  young 
man  a  series  of  papers  which  ho  recognized  as  the  quar- 
terly school-bills  of  himself  and  Aldeane. 

"  These  l)ills  are  doubtless  genuine,"  he  said  at  length, 
in  as  calm  a  voice  as  he  could  assume,  "  but  I  can  iiot"seo 
why  they  are  placed  before  mo  to-day." 

"  For  settlement,  sir,  for  settlement,"  said  Mr.  Nevins 
grandly.  «  These  bills,  sir,  you  doubtless  know,  will  bo 
handed  you  for  settlement  from  your  estate." 

Arthur  Guthrie  rose  from  his  seat,  his  eyes  absolutely 
blazing  with  passion.  "I  deny  the  validity  of  your 
claims,  sir,"  ho  exclaimed,  "and  I  denounce  you  as  a 
villain." 

Nevins  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  smiled  in  tlie  cool- 
est manner.  "I  told  your  mother  you  would  do  that," 
he  said. 

"My  mother  was  never  a  party  to  this  shameful  decep- 
tion," exclaimed  Arthur.  «  Do  you,  sir,  ignore  a  conver- 
sation wliich  took  place  between  us  upon  this  subject 
three  summers  ago?" 

"I  remember,"  he  replied,  "  that  about  that  time  I  was 
obliged,  by  my  promise  to  your  mother,  to  aid  in  a  very 
pardonable  deception  which  she  practiced  upon  you." 

"  \yhat  do  you  mean  ?"  asked  Arthur. 

"  Simply  that  your  mother  well  knew  that  I  intended 
to  carry  out  your  father's  will  merely  to  the  extent  of  a 
fair  division  of  the  interest  of  the  actual  property  left  by 
him  would  allow.  That  share  would,  perhaps,  iind  you 
ni  clothes ;  but  I  am  not  quite  sure  of  it,  as  I  observe 
you  like  to  dr*   ■(  well." 

Arthur  made  no  reply.biit  looked  at  him  from  liead  to 


46 


ALDEANE. 


foot ;  but  fio  far  from  appearing  unraKy  under  the  Hcru- 
tiiiy,  he  continued:  "1  don't  (h'liy  but  ihat  1  have  done 
well  by  your  father'H  property,  but  that  is  no  reason  why 
I  should  waste  the  proceeds  of  my  labor  upon  you,  n«.r 
do  I  intend  to  do  so." 

Arthur  Guthrie  was  silent  for  full  fifteen  minutes,  dur- 
ing which  tune  Mr.  Nevins  carelessly  Inunmed  a  tune  and 
pared  his  finger-nails,  observing  his  victim,  however,  with 
a  glance  that  never  faltered. 

"  I  told  you,  three  years  ago,  that  I  would  never  by 
law  enforce  my  father's  will,"  said  Arthur,  at  last,  "  and 
in  what  you  have  to-day  told  me  of  Aldeane,  the  truth  uf 
which  I  can  not  doubt,  1  have  an  additional  reason  lor  not 
doing  so.     What  is  the  total  amount  of  these  bills  ?" 
"  Something  near  seven  thousand  dollars,  I  believe." 
"  Interest  and  all  ?" 
"  Interest,  of  course." 

Again  Arthur  was  for  a  long  time  silent.  Ilis  first  im- 
pulse was  to  offer  no  terms  to  this  man  until  after  he  liad 
seen  the  paper  left  with  Mr.  Evans,  and  had  consulted 
Mr.  Ashton,  but  fearing  that  in  ease  of  this  delay  Nevins 
might  inform  Aldeane  of  the  false  position  which  she  had 
BO  long  held,  and  which  he  resolved  should  never  become 
known  to  her  until  the  whole  mystery  could  be  explained, 
he  at  length  said : 

"Upon  one  condition,  and  one  alone,  Mr.  Nevins,  I 
will  pay  your  unjust  demand,  and  that  is,  that  henceforth 
you  maintain  entire  silence  regarding  Aldeane,  and  never 
breathe  to  any  soul,  most  especially  to  herself,  one  word 
of  what  you  have  to-day  told  me." 

"  Why,  really,  the  matter  is  nothing  to  me,"  said  Nev- 
ins, readily  adding,  with  a  grim  sort  of  enjoyment,  "  It 
will  take  all  your  little  fortune,  eh  ?" 

To  this  Arthur  deigned  no  re])ly,  but  said:  "You  will 
understand,  sir,  that  you  have  given  me  a  promise?  to-day, 
or,  rathei-,  that  I  have  purchased  it  with  a  bribe." 


.■if 
l.e 


Al 

Al 

as 
an 


thf 

j>oi 
tio 

sill 

gri 
uni 
cin 

lier 

<< 

a  1 
slia 

<i 

HWC 

it  ii 
sitii 
sha 

the 

(( 

qui( 

iier 
— 1( 


UE. 

£»  unraKy  under  the  Hcru- 
t'liy  hut  lluit  I  liiivc  tloiic 
but  that  18  no  reason  why 
f  my  hibor  upon  you,  nor 

r  full  fifteen  minutes,  «lur- 
lessly  hummed  a  tune  and 
;  his  victim,  however,  with 

),  that  I  would  never  by 
said  Arthur,  at  last,  "  and 
le  of  Aldeane,  the  trutli  of 
n  additional  reason  for  not 
mount  of  these  bills  ?" 
sand  dollars,  I  believe." 


;  time  silent.  Ilis  first  im- 
this  man  imtil  after  he  liad 
Evans,  and  had  consulted 
I  ease  of  this  delay  Nevins 
ilse  position  which  she  had 
>lved  should  never  become 
lystery  could  be  explained, 

one  alone,  Mr.  Nevins,  I 

md  that  is,  that  henceforth 

•arding  Aldeane,  and  never 

cially  to  herself,  one  word 

ne." 

nothing  to  me,"  said  Nev- 

ira  sort  of  enjoyment,  "  It 

S  eh?" 

■e])ly,  but  said :  "  A^ou  will 

given  me  a  promise?  to-day, 

ed  it  with  a  bribe." 


ALDEANE. 


47 


Nevins  colored  to  (lie  temples.  "At  le.ist,"  he  said, 
••ilicr  a  pause,  "  if  tlu-iv  is  silence  upon  my  j.art  there  must 
I>e  on  youi's." 

Arthur  nodded  contemptuously.  "  You  may  be  sure  I 
shall  be  siKnt  until  you  s|.eivk.  I  shall  be  too  careful  of 
Aldeane's  jieace  for  that." 

"  l>y  the  way,  I  luivo  something  more  to  say  of 
Aldeane,"  said  Nevins,  thoughtfully. 

Arthur  looked  at  liim,  but  he  did  not  seem  able  to  speak 
as  readily  as  he  wished.  "  I  wish,"  he  sai.l  at  last,  abruptly 
and  plamly  enougli,  "to  .idoj)!  Aldeane." 

Arthur  looked  at  liim  in  intense  astonishment.  "To 
that  I  will  never  consent,"  he  exdainu'd. 

"  I  do  not  see  that  your  consent  would  be  of  much  im- 
portance," retorted  Nevins.  "  I  shall  m.-ike  the  proposi- 
tion  to  Aldeane,  and  it  is  for  her  to  refuse  or  .accept,  as 
she  pleases.  I  shall,  of  course,  represent  to  her  that  the 
greater  i)art  of  your  debt  to  me  has  been  inc^urred  by  her, 
and  that  by  becoming  my  daughter,  and  utterly  renoun- 
cmg  you,  she  will  free  you  from  the  necessity  of  navincr 
her  share  of  it."  i    J    o 

"  You  may  spare  yourself  the  trouble  of  making  such 
a  i)roposition  to  Aldeane,"  said  Arthur  fii-mly.  "She 
shall  never  accept  it." 

"  I  shall  spare  no  trouble  to  insure  her  welfare,"  an- 
swered Nevins.  "  I  have  a  peculiar  affection  for  lier,  and 
It  is  for  that  reason  I  assented  so  readily  to  your  propo- 
sition ;  I  am  as  anxious  as  you  .are  that  her  pe.ice  of  mind 
shall  not  be  disturbed.  I  am  also  anxious  to  jilaco  her  in 
the  position  for  which  slie  was  designed  by  birth." 

"  You  know,  then,  who  and  what  slie  is  ?"  cried  Arthur 
quickly. 

"Oftliat  T  sliall  say  nothing,  but  wliatever  might  be 
her  birth,  I  offer  to  jilace  her  now  in  an  enviable  j.osition 
■ — to  ninke  her  my  heiress." 

"  1  decline  the  honor  fig  her,"  sai.l  Arthur. 


48 


ALDEANE. 


"  You  arc  promatnro,"  answiTotl  Novinc,  frowning, 
will  myself  npciik  to  Aldt-iinc  tliis  nl^ornoon." 

"  Altlcan*'  will  be  true  to  lierself  and  to  nio,"  anHW»  rid 
Arthnr  |)roudly. 

"It  iH  a  matter  of  ])erfeet  indifference  to  me,"  mused 
Nevins,  as  Arthur  wilh«lrew.  "  I  have  at  least  by  this  oiler 
established  the  name  of  a  model  steivfather,  and  should 
she  accept  she  will  bo  mifjhtily  useful  as  the  mistress  of 
my  town  establishment ;  and  if  I  should  die,  as  I  suppose 
all  men  must — thoujih  it  is  a  decidedly  unpleasant  ar- 
rangement— why  there  would  be  a  sort  of  poetical 
justice  in  leaving  my  money  to  her." 

But  there  seemed  no  probability  that  ho  would  ever 
be  called  upon  to  do  that,  for  Aldeanc  (luthrie,  after 
having  been  informed  by  Arthur  of  the  course  Nevins 
liad  taken,  could  not  for  a  moment  think  of  assuming 
toward  him  the  relationship  he  proposed. 

"  My  dear  brother,"  she  sobbed,  "  I  know  I  am  selfish 
in  impoverishing  you  so,  but  I  can  better  do  that  than 
dishonor  you  by  taking  that  man's  name,  and  accepting 
his  bounty." 

"  Far  better,  my  darling,  far  better,"  he  answered,  with 
a  fond  embrace.  "  Follow  my  fortunes,  dearest.  Poor  as 
they  may  be,  they  Avill  at  least  be  those  of  an  honorable 
man." 

And  something  of  this,  in  her  just  indignation,  she 
told  Mr.  Nevins  that  afternoon,  to  which  he  coolly  re- 
plied, that  he  had  done  his  duty,  and  that  she  might 
pursue  the  course  she  had  chosen  without  hinderance 
from  him.  • 

And  the  next  morning  before  its  owner  arose,  Arthur 
and  Aldeane  Guthrie,  left  the  farm-house  forever,  and 
hastened  fronj  its  coldness  and  gloom  to  the  warmth  and 
light  of  Rose  Cottage. 


V 

pen 
was 
his 
]{os 
SI 
Mrs 
ing 
Grc' 


like 
as  m 

seem 
"( 

lilUgl 

judi( 
"I 
fat  he 
in  he 
"I 
l)ears 
shoul 
but  li 
shall 


0(1  Novinc,  frowning.    "  I 

is  nl^omoon." 

eir  and  to  mo,"  answorod 

lifToronoo  to  mo,"  mnsod 
havo  at  loast  by  tliiw  ollor 
1  Htop-fathcr,  and  sliould 
uaoful  as  the  mistross  of 
I  should  die,  as  I  siipposo 
docidodly  unploasant  ar- 
bc  a  sort  of  pootioal 
hor." 

lility  that  he  would  ever 
r  Aldoanc  (iutlirio,  aftor 
lur  of  the  course  Nevins 
)mcnt  think  of  assuming 
proposed. 

3cd,  "  I  know  I  am  selfish 
I  can  bettor  do  that  than 
m's  name,  and  accepting 

letter,"  lie  answered,  with 
brtunes,  dearest.  Poor  as 
,  be  those  of  an  honorable 

her  just  indignation,  she 
n,  to  which  he  coolly  re- 
uty,  and  that  she  might 
losen  without  hinderance 

e  its  owner  arose,  Arthur 

farm-house  forever,  and 

gloom  to  the  warmth  and 


\ 


CIIAPTKR  VIT. 

AT.nEA.\E   TAKES    A    JOJUNKV,    AND    FINOH    A    HOME. 

FoiK  months  later  Artlmr  Guthrie  was  an  almost 

penniless  St udont  in  a  law  o<H«e  in  IJoston,  hi.  stei^father 

was  m  undisputed  posNossion  of  the  greater  portion  of 

lis  property,  and  Aldef>ne  was  spending  the  vacation  at 
Itoso  Cottage. 

She  had  just  entered  with  ]\[is8  Ashton  from  a  call  at 
Mrs.  Morgan's,  and  was  silting  upon  the  piazza  discuss- 
ing the  manners  and  appearance  of  her  niece,  Miss  Auuio 
Greyson. 

"She  is  certainly  very  beautiful,"  said  Aldeane. 

"  Ves,"  returned  her  friend,  "as  Fred  once  said,  she  is 
like  a  lovely  dall,  and  my  opinion  is,  she  has  also  about 
as  inuoli  licart  and  brain  as  a  doll." 

"Why,  I  am  suit,"  said  Aldeane  reproachfully,  ".she 
sooins  to  like  every  one." 

"Certainly,  she  does,"  she  returned,  with  a  merry 
laugh  ;  "  she  has  not  animation  enough  to  support  a  pre- 
judice." 

"  I  wonder  Mr.  Morgan  did  not  return  liorae  when  his 
father  died,"  said  Aldeane,  bending  low  over  some  trifle 
in  her  hand. 

"I  wondered  at  it  too,"  answered  Belle,  "but  it  ap- 
pears that  Mr.  Morgan  expressed  a  wish  that  his  son 
should  complete  his  tour.  I  am  sure  poor  Fred  can  have 
but  little  heart  for  it.  I  wish  he  would  come  home.  I 
shall  bo  so  loiuly,  when  you  are  gone." 


60 


A  LJ)  iJA  y  I'- 


Al.U'an.!  pn-sH..,l  tlio  l.nn.l  of  lu-r  fii.^i..!.  "  My  'l'^'- 
lovo,"  sii.l  slu',  "wli:it  will  be  joiir  lomlim^s  to  iniiuV" 

"  Aii.l  ytt  yoii  :uv  triad  to  >,'o,"  Hiii.l  n»lli'. 

"Almost,"  hI.o  anHWoiv.1,  "or,  at  liii>t,  I  am  i,'lml  that 
Pn.rossor  (Jiviivillc  consiacnMl  mo  worthy  of  the  situa- 
tion." .  ,     , 

"What   did   hu   say   the   hi.lyV   iianio   was."      asUcl 

Ikllc.  ., 

"  Arenddl,  Uvh.  John  Aroiuk'll.     Slic  was  once  a  \<n\M 

of  his."  „      .,,,,, 

"The  name  soctna  quite  familiar  to  mo,  sai.i  I. olio, 
"but  of  oourwo  I  oau  not  know  hor.  I  am  surprisod  that 
Arthur  has  oonsontod  to  allow   you   to  go  so  far  from 

Aldeano  smiled.  "  It  really  is  not  such  a  Ions  distance, 
Belle,  and  as  North  Carolina  is  our  native  State,  it  is 
natural  we  should  have  some  inclination  for  it.  Dear 
Arthur !  1  hope  you  will  be  very  kind  to  him,  IJelle,  when 

\  am  gone."  ,,     -  .,        ■. 

Hel'le  reddened  and  smiled.  "I  can  hardly  fad  to  bo 
That,"  she  replied,  "  every  one  likes  him  but  that  horrible 
Nevins.  Do  you  know,  Aldeano,  Charley  Kvuns  told 
papa  that  he  believes  Nevins  bribod  that  clerk  ho  dis- 
charged soon  atU«r  his  father's  death,  yes,  actually  bribed 
i.im,'to  give  him  that  paj.or  your  mother  loll  with  him,  for 
not  a  trkee  of  it  could  b(>  found.  1  never  saw  papa  in  sueh 
a  way  about  any  thing." 

"  Hush,"  said  Aldoanc  warningly,  "  it  is  indeed  a  very 
Htrange  thing,  but  we  odght  not  to  talk  of  it.  Unfor 
tuiiatoly  ^Ir.  Evans  was  a  very  eccentric  man,  and  used 
to    iiiid'  the   slnuigost   hiding-places    for  most  valuable 

pajjors." 

"Yes,"  inlorruptod  Hello,  "Charley  used  to  tell 
Arthur  when  he  was  at  college,  that  the  l>usiness  never 
would  bo  straightened  if  he  died  of  apoplexy,  as  there  was 
every  Indication  he  would.     But  how  provoking  to  think 


-'  I'  n  h:.[  .\'^. 


■V  fri.'iKl.     "  My  <l<in- 
l(tmliiu;<-<  to  iniiu'V" 

li.i  n.Hi'. 

Ua>t,  I  am  i,'l!i(l  that 
WDi-tliy  uf  till'  fitvia- 


61 


iianu'   wuH 


anki'tl 

Slic  wan  oiici'  a  impil 

r  to  mc,"  sai<l  I  idle, 
,  I  am  siiiprisi'il  tliat 
nil   to  go  m  iar  from 

it  Hiich  a  Iniiu;  «Ustanei', 
;)iir  iiativo  State,  it  is 
•linatioii  lor  it.  Dear 
iiicl  to  him,  IJulkv  when 

I  can  liarclly  fail  to  Tie 
8  him  l)ut  tiiat  horril)lu 
0,  Charley  KvaiM  toKl 
bod  that  i-lerk  lie  diw- 
th,  yos,  ai'tuaily  brilii'tl 
uitlicr  k'll  with  hiin,  for 
lU'VtT  Haw  i)ai)rt  in  wm-h 

ly,  "  it  is  iiulcod  a  very 
,'to  talk  of  it.  Uiifor 
'pi'titric  man,  and  used 
ices    for  most  valuablo 

Charley  nscd  to  tell 
liat  the  business  never 
f  apoplexy,  as  there  wan 
how  provoking  to  think 


l:;'';,';;;":' ' ''"i.-,..' ■< ,.,. .,, 

"»i-atl,M,  Aitlmi-,",.ii,IAI.I,... M„,„  ,■  „       ,. 

".-;;f:i.:'r;c;i::-;-:::, «..-...- 

l,.rt  1.  I-    1      •  ,   ■-'    '  '  "^'   '"*'  lovo  and  friends  she  hid 
1;  a  Whind,  with  stron,  hope,  for  the  future.  „„d  ncl  weiik 

With  the  pre..ite.st  anxiety,  Hc-Ile  ,hou,.ht  of  her  frie,.d 

i'.m„us.     l>ays  seemed  to  i.ass  like  loii-r  dr..,..-,-  ...     i 
;-  she  mipatiently  awaited  a   etter  t  o  n   t       ^'      "''^' 

my  cuhest  opportunity.     I  aniy.d  here  three  days  ^gu. 


1 


62 


ALDEANE. 


My  adventures  on  tho  journey  are  too  numerou.  an    tuc 
o  nu-ntion.     So  I  will  pass  them  by.     I  lonnd  myself 
after  a  long  jolting  ride,  in  a  miserable  .tage-e<.aeh,  me 
'  e  ron^hes     of  roads,  at  Loring.     It  was  about  e.ght 
oVlook  in  the  evening,  but  the  heat  wlueh  had  nearly 
"ut'oeated  n^e  thn.ughout  the  day,  did  not  seem  m       e 
S^^st  degree  diminished.     1  had  expected  t.,  hud  ,uU. 
H  lann.  town,  as  Loring  is  the  county  seat.     It  is   n  lact 
^'Z  ;  «mall  village,  and  an  ancient  am   glo.uny- 
Wkin.^  Vlaec-at  least  as  1  viewed  it  by  the  bnlhant  hght 
oth  Summer  moon.     I  was  about  to  inqu.ro  for  the  res  - 
dene    of  Mr.  Arendell,  when  a  negro  man  approached, 
td  ask  d  if  I  was  »  Miss  (Guthrie."     I  replied  tha   I  was 
:  the.  said  "  Mass  John  had  sent  him  ^r -e  -ul  ^'d^^ 
have  come  himself,  if  he  had  been  at  honje.     ^-'^^ 
knowing  who  Mass  John  might  be,  I  ^^'''^  ^''"^ ^'''^''^^r:^ 
he  meant  Mr.  Arendell.    "  I  mean  de  Colonel,  ma'am,  de.e 
an"  no  Mr.  Arendell  now."     I  laughed  at  the  earnes  nes 
with  which  he  spoke,  and  was  a  httle  surprise.!  at    he 
TearcMng  glance'with  which  he  regarded  "-     I  pmn  ed 
out  mv  fu-.rage  to  him.     It  was  soon  placed  at  t]  .  back 

:?\rln^^,  in   which  I  ^^^^^^^T\^Z 
drove  rapidly  out  of  the  town.    I  asked  L  ncle  Adam  for 

thatproled\obe  the  driver's  --' l-^^- ^^^^^  ^  J 
,ro     '"Bout  two  miles, miss,"  was  his  reply.     I  was  very 
t;;d  to  know  that  I  was  not  to  live  in  the  htUe  dingy 
place  we  had  left.     After  driving  through    hick  ^^oo.ls 
•or  some  distance,  we  ascended  a  gentle  elevation  and  we  e 
n  s  ght  of  Arendell  House.     It  is  a  large  white  mansioi^ 
"itMna..as  on  every  siVle,  .almost  covered  with  climbing 
roses'and  flowering  vines.  The  long  windows,  shad.^  by 
Venetian  blinds,  reached  to  the  ground,  and  as  we  ap 
p^ched  I  saw  ;  gentleman,  with  a  long  -;i  I'^P^;;^ 
hand  step  out  of  one  of  them,  and  join  a  lady  as  ho  as  as 
riding  upon  the  piazza.     A  moment  afterward  the  car- 
;!age  stepped  at  thi  gate.     The  gentleman  was  there,  and 


ALDEANE. 


loo  iiumci'oii:>  and  trite 
by.     I  found  mysolt", 
i-iiblo  gtiige-i-oarh,  over 
;.     It  Wiis  about  oight 
it'i\t  which  had  noarly 
,  did  not  socm  in  thi- 
\  expected  to  find  (initc 
uity  seat.     It  is  in  liiet 
in  ancient  and  j^looniy- 
l  it  by  the  brilliant  litiht 
It  to  inqnira  for  the  resi- 
iies^ro  man  approached, 
."  "  I  replied  that  I  was. 
it  him  for  mc,  and  would 
at  home."'     Not  exactly 
je,  I  asked  him  Avhether 
I  de  Colonel,  ma'am,  dere 
ughed  at  the  earnestness 
a  little  surprised  at  the 
retrarded  mc.     I  pointed 
soon  placed  at  tl  3  back 
d  seated  myself,  and  wo 
I  asked  Uncle  Adam,  for 
name,  how  far  wc  had  to 
as  his  reply.     I  was  very 
a  live  in  the  little  dhigy 
lUg  through  thick  woods 
gentle  elevation  and  were 
is  a  large  white  mansion, 
)8t  covered  with  climbing 
long  windows,  shaded  by 
>  ground,  and  as  we  ap- 
ith  a  long  reed  pipe  in  his 
and  join  a  lady  who  was 
lonient  afterward,  the  car- 
I  gentleman  was  there,  un-l 


63 


assisted  mo  to  ahght.     He  introduced  himself  as  Colonel 
Arendell      He  ,s  about  fifty  years  old,  tali  and  thin,  like 
most  ot  the  natives  of  the  South.     His  hair  is  thi„  a„,l 
gray;    us  comple.vion  sallow,  and  his  whole  a|,,)ean,nce 
somewhat  meager.  He  has  a  careless  and  happy  expression 
of  countenance,  and  his  good-humored  snnle,  as  well  as 
the  words  wuh  which  he  greeted  me,  prepare.l  me  for  u 
smcere  welcome  from  the  other  members  of  the  famiiv 
As  he  M^>!come.l  me,  I  for  the  first  time  thought  of  nf; 
travel-soiled  aj>pearance;  but  it  was  too  late  to^remedv  ft 
now;  so  in  some  confusion  I  followed  him  to  the  house 
and  was  introduced  to  xAIrs.  Arendell.     She  is  a  fine  hand- 
some womaiu     I  have  somewliere  seen  a  face  much  'resem- 
t'lmg  hers,  but  I  can  not  remember  where.     She  is  much 
younger  than  her  husband,  and  far  more  ehnrant.     I  saw 
at  a  glance  that  she  was  a  Northerner,  and  ^immediately 
tclt  as  ,f  I  had  foun.l  an  old  friend.     Her  manners  are  so 
winnmg  and  charming  that  I  soon  became  perfectly  at 
case  in  her  com,>any.     She  conducted  me  to  the  supper 
able,  which  M-as  most  temptingly  spread;  on  returning  to 
the  parlor,  a  young  lady  about  fifteen  years  old,  arose  to 
meet  mc.  >  lu 

"  >ry  stop-daugliter,  Leonoro,"  said  Mrs.  Arendell 
I  wish  I  could  j)Iace  Leonoro  Arendell  before  you  in 
all  her  beauty;  my  description  can  never  convey  to  vou 
the  mdescribable  charm  an.l  grace  that  surrounds  her 
She  IS  small,  and  delicately  formed;  her  complexion  is 
as  iair  as  a   pure  white  lily,  with  a  tint  of  rose  over- 
^i'l-oudmg  It  like  a  halo    rather  than  a  definite   color 
J  or  coral  lips,  when  parted  disclosed  small  even  teetli 
ot  pearl-hke  whiteness;  dark  glossy  ringlets  ri.,ple  over 
lior   brow,  and   fall   over  her  shoulders,  in   a   irraeeful 
shower.     But  this  beauty  of  person,  is  ,iothingTn  com- 
parison with  the  loveliness  of  soul  that  beams  throu-rb  J.er 
speaking  eyes.     Tenderness  of  heart,  witii  no  traces  of 
a  strong  mind,  are  visible  in  every  action. 


54 


ALDEANE. 


^ 


She  seemed  very  clad  to  see  me,  and  s,>oke  frequently 
of  the  ,>l''=vs"-e  >:ho  antieipated  in  a-am  p"'-s">"S  '"r 
favovite^tudy,  musie.  I  asked  »-  ^-v  on,  .t  ^^ 
shK-e  she  had  h-ft  school.  She  rephed :  '''^^^^^ 
n.onths.  I  am  so  ,lad  to  be  at  homes  though  x  ._^ 
that  I  know  nothu„s  Miss  Guthne.  1  don't  ^^^^ 
at  all,  and  I  a,n  not  jroing  baek  agam.  I  am  sure  >ou 
e-m  teaeli  me  all  I  want  to  know." 

I  velired  earlv  to  rest,  and  greatly  fatigued  with  my 

Txious  to  know  how  I  am  situated.  My  room  is  very 
h  "e  and  pleasant,  handsomely  furnished,  and  Us  wm- 
do^H  command  a  tine  view  of  the  surrounding  eon  tiy 

I  stood  for  some  time  at  the  window,  watching  the  sun 
as  it  arose  slowly  above  the  belt  of  p  nes  that  bounded 
Uie  hori.on-then  tempted  by  the  cool  "--^J  -  ,  - 
the  dcwvfrasrraneeof  the  garden  at  my  fe..;t,  I  descc  ukd 
W  ^iU?i-ed  it.  It  was  a  perfect  thicket  of  roses.  Roses 
erX  arbors  and  border  the  walks,  -"/'"S  "P  ^ 
cloud  of  perfume,  and  producing  a  scene  ot  luxunant 
beauty  almost  indescribable. 

llxV.A  down  the  graveled  path  to    he  S'^te     th  n 
turned  to  look  at  the  house.     It  arose  white  and  stately 
fi^m    almost   a  forest  of  trees-mhuosas,  oaks,  maples, 
nnTcedxrs,  the  latter  in  such  numbers  that  they  totally 
dlel  ed  the  idea  of  lightness  and  cheerfulness  with  which 
te  ™lly  conceive  Southern  houses  to  be  simounded. 
A\roifa/..a  encircled  the  house;  a  variety  o  creeping 
plans      ntwinedthe  lattice  before    ^^\^^.^^^ 
*  ^  Ued  honeysuckle  still  was  blooming;  but  Sinnng  ha 
borne   awav   with   her   all  other  blossoms.      Ihe   long 
!reen  Venetian  blinds  were  thrown  back ;  and  I  caught 
Sht  of  a  room-liaudsomely  furnished,  with   Brussels 
c'u-pet    -ieh  brocade,  and  lace  curtains,  velvet  chairs  and 
o  Is    and   a   superb   piano.      Another   apartment    also 
c^H^^Ld  upouthe'pia..i     It  was  the  sitting-room;  look- 


iinil  sjioko  firquontly 
ii'^ain  pursuing  lur 
icr  how  lonj:  it  w:tH 
oplii'd:  "Only  thiro 
lome,  thouijb  pa  says 
1  don't  like  KalcigU 
gain.    I  am  snro  you 

tly  fatigued  with  my 
I  suppose   you   are 
■d.     ^ly  room  is  very 
irnished,  and  its  win- 
iirrounding  eountry. 
low,  watehing  the  sun 
af  pines  that  boundeil 
cool  morning  air,  and 
t  my  feet,  I  descentled 
liieket  of  roses.     Roses 
walks,    sending  up  a 
a  scene  of  lu.\uriant 

ath  to  the  gate;  then 
rose  white  and  stately 
nhuosas,  oaks,  majjles, 
nbers  that  they  totally 
cheerfulness  with  which 
uses  to  be  surrounded. 
:;  a  variety  of  creeping 
)re    them;    the  ^sweet- 
)ming ;  but  Spring  had 
blossoms.      The   long 
«n  back  ;  and  I  caught 
rnished,  with   Brussels 
•tains,  velvet  chairs  and 
nother   apartment    also 


the  sitting-room;  look 


r 


A  L  D  HA  NE. 


55 


mg  delightfully  cool,  its  floor  covered  with  matlin-  the 
wmdows  hung  witii  green  hn.ea.h.  and   lace,  a  nimilK.r 
ot  white  cane-chairs  were  scattered   over  tiie  room      I 
presently  saw  one  juisIumI  through  the  wind-.w,  and  was 
loilowe.!  by  Colonel  Arendeli,  sn.okin-   with  an  aj-n.-ar- 
ance  o/  the  most  intense  enjoynienf.^i  very  long  reed 
pipe.     ([  hav«  discovered  that  tiiis  j)ii.e  is  his  constant 
ronipanion    and    solace.)     Not   wishing    to    ho   seen     I 
turned  into  a    side  path,  bordered  by'hiirli  rose-bushes 
and  gained  a  little  ascent,  from  which  I  could  see,  at  the' 
hack  of  the  house,  a  river  llowing.    Jiolk.,  you  know  that 
we  have  often  read  of  the  silvery  waters  of  the  South 
]  fam  would  support  this  illusion,  but  candor  compels 
me  to  own  that  this  stream  is  narrow  and  turbid ;  the 
wide,  sand-washed  banks,  indicate  that  it  does  ikH  al- 
ways flow  on  in  the  same  narrow  channel,  but  occasion- 
ally  bursts  forth,  flooding  the  surrounding  country  with 
Its  angry  waters.     I  observed  that  at  a  short  distance 
stood  an  immense  and  wide-spreading  oak;  indeed,  so 
tall  is  it,  that  even  in  this  region  of  foi-ests,  it  marks 'the 
place  for  miles  around.     I  soon  stood  beneath  its  shadow 
It  crowns  a  slight  eminence,  from  whence  I  could  see  the 
dwelling-house,  the  long  row  of  negro  cabins  behind  it 
aiKl  catch  glimpses  of  the  sullen  river  beyond  them  all! 
It  M-as  a  beautiful  scene.     Tlic  green  coniHelds  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  river,  which  is  si)anned  at  this  point 
I'y  a  slight  Avooden  bridge,  waved  luxuriantly  in  the 
morning  light ;  the  laborers  liad  early  begun  their  toil, 
and  with  monotonous,  yet  cheerful  songs,  were  performin.' 
tlieir  tasks  ;  from  the  kitchen  to  the  house,  women  were 
hurrying  to  and  fro  in  their  bright  homespun  dres,ses ; 
their  black  faces  rendered  even  darker  by  contrast  with' 
their  many-colored  turbans.     I  was  lost  in  contemplation 
ot  the  scene,  and  conjecturing  the  many  tales  this  same 
old  o.ak  could  tell  me  of  the  events  that  had  taken  place 
beneath  its  shadow  if  the  voice  of  fabled  time  could  be 


56 


ALDEANE. 


given  to  it,  when  I  was  aroused  by  a  child's  vole,  angrily 

exelaiming :—  r         t  c^  T  «;il  i" 

"  I  will  ride !     I'll  tell  my  mamma  of  you !  so  I  w  m  . 
I  looked  up  the  path,  and  saw  a  little  girl  runur:.- 
rapidly  and  passioi    ^.ely  in  the  direction  m  which  I  «toou 
occasionally  stopp...     to  stamp  her  feet,  and  repeat  tl>e 
words  that  had  first  arrested  my  attention.      She  was 
about  four  years  old,  and  a  true  type  of  ^o"ther«  beau  j 
a  perfect  bnmette  with  dark  fiery  eyes,  and  a  wild,  mirth- 
ful expression.     Her  jetty  curls,  were  thrown  back  Irom 
her  dark  face  and  crimson  cheeks.     She  was  dressed  in  a 
Bhort  blue  frock,  that  was  blown       ^^^^  ^/^^^  ""^'^f 
breez-c  as  she  continued  unwittmgly  and  hastily  to  ap- 
proach me.     A  negro  woman  appeared  at  th«  ';-;^,«*     « 
lalk,  calling  loudly,  "Oh-h!   Miss  Jessie!    Oh-h!  Miss 
Jessie !  doi^t  tell  your  mar,  and  I'l  give  you  a  ride 

I  still  stood  beneath  the  great  oak,  and  when  the  c1  ild 
came  near  to  mo,  I  stepped  forward  to  ™-^'t  hc;is  w-ith  a 
cheerful  smile,  saying,  "What  is  the  matter  i  W  ho  is  it 
that  won't  let  you  ride  ?" 

She  stopped  suddenly,  much  astonished  at  my  presence ; 
looked  up  and  down  the  path,  as  if  uncertain  which  way 
to  run-  then  glanced  at  me  bashfully,  in  childish  confu- 
sion twirling  her  fingers  in  her  long  curls. 

T;epeated  my  questions ;  and  with  tears  starting  to  her 
fine  eies ;  she  replied,  "  Zettie  won't  let  me  rule    andvna       1 
saTd  /might.     Frank  and  Eddie  have  had  a  right  smart 
rile ;  and  I  want  one  too."    And  she  puckered  up  her  face 
to  keep  back  the  rising  tears. 

"Well'   never  mind,  dear,"  I  answered,  " we  will  go 
back,  and  see  what  can  be  done.    Tell  me  your  name, 

'''"  My  n^me  is  Jessie  Louisa  Arendell.  What  is  youi^  ?" 
was  her  prompt  reply,  accompanying  the  question  with  a 
dose  sciutin/of  my  person.  "You're  the  lady  that  s 
going  to  teach  us,  ain't  you?"  she  presently  continued. 


r 


child's  voice  angrily 

i  of  you  !  so  I  will !" 
a  little  fjirl  ruiiiii-:;- 
Lion  in  which  I  »tootl, 
feet,  and  repeat  the 
attention.      She  was 
e  of  Southern  beauty, 
es,  and  a  wild,  mirth- 
re  thrown  back  from 
She  was  dressed  in  a 
.ck  by  the  mornini? 
rly  and  hastily  to  ap- 
red  at  the  head  of  the 
»  Jessie!    Oh-h!  Miss 
I  give  you  a  ride  !" 
k,  and  when  the  child 
1  to  meet  her,  with  a 
le  matter  ?     Who  is  it 

iiished  at  my  presence ; 
f  uncertain  which  way 
uUy,  in  childish  confu- 
ig  curls. 

;h  tears  starting  to  her 
»'t  let  me  ride ;  andyna 
lave  had  a  right  smart 
be  puckered  up  her  face 

mswered,  "  we  will  go 
I,    Tell  me  your  name, 

dell.  What  is  yours  ?" 
ing  the  question  with  a 
You're  the  lady  that's 
e  presently  continued. 


ALDEAXE. 


67 


«Yes,"  I  replied,  unable  wholly  to  repress  a  smile 
and  my  name  is  (iuthiic."  ' 

"HanMi't  you   any  other  name  than  that?"  she   ex- 
claimed. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  am  called  Aldeanc  Guthrie  " 

"Well,  now,  that's   a  mighty  pretty  name;  prettier 

than  you  are  yourself!"  ,i"n.inr 

I  was  about  to  indulge  in  a  laugh  at  her  oddity,  which 

I  could  no  longer  restrain,  wh.-n  she  exciai.ned  : "  "  Ther 

are  P  n,.k  and  Eddy  !     Xow,  Miss  Uuthrie.  can't  I  ,1:;: 

I  looked  up,  and  saw  just  before  me  two  pretty  bov« 
l.«  Hdest  about  ten  years  old,  the  other  abo  .t  two  years 
younger.  The  largest  was  dismounting  a  small  1 
pony,  wh.eh  was  hel.l  by  a  negro  wom^,  who  Z^^. 
dently  „.,lnlg,„.  ;,.  ,  ,u  of  sulks.  The  boys  looke<l  at 
-  cunously,  and   replied,  "How  d'ye?"  to  my  sll!,:! 

I,^sa,d:    "Does   Mrs.    Aren.lell    pennit   Miss   Jessie   to 

^;'  Yc-s,  ma'rm  "  was  i,er  nuutered  response. 
Zettie  8  ma.l  to-d.-.y,  and  won't  let  her  "  said  one  of 
tho   W«.     "Ma  will  scold   her  well,  when  :hl  Z.t 

';  Oh  Miss  Guthrie,  can't  I  ride  !"  cried  Jessie,  a<.ain 

saddt    Th\'""  r-'"  '  "'•''^'''  •■»"^  ^''^^-i  '-••  ""to    he 
sa  Idle.     She  k.sse.l  me  joyously,  and  the  sulky  soryant 

cd  the  pony  briskly  away.     I  now  made  someVro  "" 

oward  an  acquaintance  with  the  boys,  and  fou.Ke^ 

polity  and  mtelhgent.    Jessie  soon  reiurne,],  yocifero     ly 

in-ocla.m.ng  that   she  had  h.cd   "a  mighty'  nice     he -" 

1  he  breakfast-bell  sounde.l,   and  we  iiWd  towar      ho 

ouse,  Jessie  dancing  along  beside  me,  asking  iLume  " 

ble  questions,  and  the  boys  following  us  ^ovvImv 

uudbashfuly.     As  we  approached  the- ouse     's'aw'coS 


58 


ALDEAKK. 


iw\  an.l  Mr^.  Arcndi'll  upon  the  i.ia/.za ;  thoy  Boomecl  sur- 
prise,] thiit  I  hn.l  arisen  so  early,  an.l  mueh  i)!eased  that 
1  ha.l  already  tiained  the  gcuMl-will  of  the  ehildren. 

Afn-r  breakfast,  CoU)nel  Areiidell  sauntered,  pipe  in 
liand,  out  to  the  iields.  "  You  see  I  have  to  work,  Miss 
(iuthrie,"  he  said,  hiughin-.  "  My  wife  will  not  tolerate 
an  overseer,  and,  in  fact,  they  are  a  troublesomo  set  ot 
fellows.     I  have  no  cause  to  love  them." 

Mrs  Arendell  and  I  rei>aired  to  the  sitting-room,  while 
Leonore  with  a  large  bunch  of  keys,  and  followed  by 
a  half-dozen  negro  women,  went  to  the  smoke-house  ami 
store-room,  to  give  out  supplies.  "  You  see  I  am  bring- 
ing up  Leonore  quite  a  Southern  housekeeper,  said  31  rs. 
Arendell,  "  though  every  one  says  she  has  imbibed  many 
of  mv  Northern  proclivities." 

Tlie  day  passed  very  pleasantly.  Several  ladies  called, 
and  appeared  very  pleasant  and  sociable.  The  children  are 
quite  intelligent  and  cood-natured,  .  I  presume  the  task 
of  instructing  them  will  not  be  very  arduous.  I  believe 
that  I  shall  lind  life  in  North  Carolina  more  pleasant  than 
you  predicted,  though  I  will  not  promise  not  to  get  home- 
sick and  return  to  you. 

This  evening,  as  I  was  standing  on  the  back  piazza, 
forming  a  wrelith  from  the  sprays  of  multifloras  that 
creep  over  it,  I  saw  Jessie  apparently  working  earnestly 
at  the  well,  with  a  dipper  in  hand,  endeavoring  to  obtain 
water  from  the  bucket.  She  did  so  several  times,  and 
threw  it  on  the  ground,  at  the  same  time  drenching  her- 
self plentifully.  So  intent  .was  she  upon  her  work  that 
she  did  not  observe  me  until  I  exclaimed : — 
"  Jessie,  what  are  vou  doing  V" 

"Giving  my  frogs' water,  to  be  sure,"  she  replied,  con- 
tinuing her  exertions. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  inquired,  approaching  her. 
"The  frogs  are  all  thirsty  of  evenings,"  she  replied, 
"and  thev  come  to  the  well  to  drink,  and  there  isn't  any 


;  « 


n 
\\ 

tl 

P' 
di 

111 

oc 

w; 

m( 
wi 
soi 
Ai 


T 


■a ;  thoy  Boomed  sur- 
mufh  ])!oiV8Ccl  tluit 
fthe  ohililivn. 
I  sanntcR'tl,  pipe  in 
[  have  to  -work,  M\m 
wife  will  not  tolerate 
troublesomo  set  of 

m." 

e  sitting-room,  while 
ys,  and  followed  by 
the  smoke-house  and 
You  see  I  am  bring- 
isekeoi»er,"  said  Airs, 
le  has  imbibed  many 

Several  ladies  called, 
l)le.  The  children  are 
I  presume  the  task 
y  arduous.  I  believe 
la  more  pleasant  than 
mise  not  to  get  home- 
on  the  back  piazza, 
i  of  multifloras  that 
ly  working  earnestly 
endeavoring  to  obtaiin 
ao  several  times,  and 
;  time  drenching  lier- 
3  upon  her  work  that 
iiraed : — 

ure,"  she  replied,  con- 

d,  approaching  her, 
venings,"  she  replied, 
ik,  and  there  isn't  any 


ALDEANE. 


59 


water  'round,  you  know,  so  I  always  give  'em  some 
ilere,  Iittlofrogurv,  hcivi"  imsomo. 

vou""  /T^"^'\  ""'!?"^'-"'  ---ered,  "Why  don't 
\<)ii  get  /ottif,  or  Aunt  J{o.xv  to  i^ivt.  them  wat...-v    >> 
you  are  splashing  yourself  ail  over'"  '' 

"Oh  !  they  all  laugh  at  me,  and  say  the  fro<.s  can  <ro 
t;.  the  nver      ]]ut  they  don't  like  such  dirty  ^ate  •     £ 
su les,  they  d.>nt  know  the  .v.y  there;  an<l  'two    d  b     ; 

"  It  would,  indeed,"  I  replied,  laughin<r.     «'  But  oomo  r 
tl.ey  have  plenty  of  water  now  »     She  hun,.  i,n  t h     r 
per,  smoothed  down  her  wet  "  coat ''  a    Z  ?d    d' "'" 
dross,  slipped  her  little  hand  into  mine  a'  d  u^     V'm  " 
-  to  the  house.     ^  M..,  do  you  ^t;  u!  nk7     J^ ' 

wu  hefas'j;;r '  ^\'  ^""^'^"  ^""'  ^  -« ^^ 

with  he.,  as  w.th  every  other  person  and  thing  here 

And  now  I  must  stop;  „ot  because  I  have  nothin.. 
more  to  say,  „r  because  I  will  pretend  to  fear  tla   you 
wdl  be  weary  of  this  letter,  which  already  exceed    -Tl    -ea 
sonable  length,  but  because  I  have  still  to  wr  e  to  d2 
A.thur,  of  whom  I  expect  a  full  account  when  you  writ^ 
With  dearest  love  to  him,  your  papa,  and  yolrser      • 
I  remain  ever 

Your  affectionate 

A[,T)E.VNE. 


T 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A    SLIGHT   MYSTEUV. 

TiiK  first  Sunday  aftt-r  Aldcane  arrived  at  Arcndcll 
House— as  hor  now  residoiice  was  familiarly  oallod— she 
accompanied  the  family  to  a  camp-meeting  which  was 
held  in  a  grove  some  miles  distant.  Here,  in  the  scene 
of  confusion  incident  to  the  occasion,  was  shown  to  her 
the  class  of  people  among  which  she  was  thrown.  The 
highest  and  lowest  grmles  of  society— the  aristocrats  and 
the  slaves— with  the  only  intermediate  one,  the  i)oor 
whites— were  amply  represented;  and  slie  learned,  in 
three  hours,  more  of  their  characteristica  than  she  could 
have  hoped,  in  ordinary  intercourse,  to  do  in  as  many 

months. 

Upon  the  w'^olc,  she  wac  pleased,  although  she  was 
somewhat  shocked  at  witnessing  so  boisterous  and  excit- 
ing a  scene  where  the  people  were  gathered  together  for 
religious  exercises;  but  when  she  discovered  that  the 
laughing  and  shouting  and  crying  was  so  far  from  irrev- 
erence that  they  were  considered  an  important  part  of 
those  exercises,  she  could  look  upon  them  with  some  de- 
gree of  toleration,  and  find  a  curious  admiration  for  the 
excessive  fervor,  that  had  to  her  such  unseemly  time  and 
place  of  expression. 

Upon  the  conclusion  of  the  services,  Aldcane  was  intro- 
duced to  a  number  of  people  who  exchanged  greetings 
with  the  Arendells,  and  awakened  so  much  interest  and 
attention,  especially  from  the  young  gentlemen,  that  she 


A  LI>  /JAX/:. 


61 


[II. 


IV. 


arrived  at  Arcndcll 
Piimiliarly  t-allod — bIio 
vnu'otiiig  which  was 
.  Hero,  in  the  Heene 
on,  was  shown  to  her 
lie  was  thrown.  The 
r — the  aristocrats  and 
L'diate   one,  the  j)oor 

and  she  learned,  in 
ristica  than  she  could 
le,  to  do  in  as  many 

ed,  although  she  was 
»  boisterous  and  excit- 
gatliered  together  for 
>  discovered  that  the 
was  so  far  from  irrev- 
an  important  part  of 
[1  them  with  some  de- 
i>u8  admiration  for  the 
ch  unseemly  time  and 

;es,  Aldeanc  was  intro- 

I  exchanged  greetings 

so  much  interest  and 

g  gentlemen,  that  she 


was  quite  relieved  to  hoar  lAIrs.  Arendeli  say,  in  answer 

to  a  question  from  some  one  near: — 

"No,  we  shall  not  stay  for  the  next  spr\'ioes;  we  have 

so  far  to  go,  you  know,     (iood-bye !     Colonel  Arcndcll 

p'case  take  Miss  Guthrie  and  Jessie  in  your  carriage,  the 
rest  of  the  cJiildren  will  return  with  me." 

He  bowed,  an<l  assisted  Aldeane  into  the  carriage; 
then  lifted  in  Jessie,  who  declared  that  she  was  "tired  to' 
death," and  finally  sprang  in  himself,  and  they  soon  left  the 
ground,  proceeding  for  some  time  in  silence.  Jessie  had 
Ihllen  asleep,  and  Aldeane  was  absorbed  in  thoughts  of 
the  scene  she  had  just  witnessed,  wh.en  she  was  aroused 
by  the  remark  of  Colonel  Arendeli:— 

"  That  must  be  a  strange  scene  to  one  who  has  never 
been  in  North  Carolina  or  tlie  South  before." 

"  Or  even  to  me  that  has,  sir,"  she  answered.  "  I  was 
born  in  this  State,  but  remember  nothintr  of  it." 

"Indeed!"  he  exclaimed,  seeming  to  bo  much  sur- 
prised, while  the  color  rushed  to  his  lace.  "In  what 
county  y" 

She  mentioned  it. 

"  Ah !  yes,  she  lived  there !"  he  muttered.  Then  asked 
"  When  did  you  leave  this  State  ?''  ' 

"  When  I  was  about  a  year  old." 

"And  your  mother's  name,  before  marriage,  was " 

"Ellen  Deane,  sir." 

"Yes,  yes.     Have  you  any  brothers?" 

"  One.     Arthur." 

"  Will  you  favor  me  by  letting  me  know  your  given 
name  ?" 

"  Certainly !     It  is  Aldeane," 

"  Al— deane !"  he  reiterated,  rising  from  his  seat  in  tlie 
carriage,  as  if  in  the  greatest  alarm  and  astonishment. 
"Al— deane!  Whom  were  you  called  after?  It  is  a 
strange  name." 

Aldeane  was  lialf  frightened  at  his  vehemence.     She 


02 


AIDE  AN  E. 


Haw  that  ho  \vm\  hoard  tho  name  before,  but  rcpliid  as 
calmly  as*  possible 

"  1  oiicc  ask«Ml  my  mother  llu"  same  question  tluit  yoii 
Jiave  j>ut  to  me,  sir,  ai\il  slie  naid,  '  Alter  my  sisur 
Aliee,  who  before  her  marriage  was  almost  ahvayw  ealU«i 
Al  Deane,  to  disliniruiHli  lier  from  a  eouniu  of  tlie  same 
name.'  1  was  al)out  to  ask  more  eoiieeniinj;  my  aunt  wlieii 
my  mother  letl  the  room,  as  if  wisliinjx  to  nhun  further 
inquiry,  and  after  tliat  I  never  liad  an  opportunity  of 
maivinii  any." 

"Then  it  is  your  mother's  death  you  mo\irn !"  he  said, 
frianeint;  at  her  bhiek  dre.ss,  with,  Aideane  tiiou<,'iit,  a 
relieved  expression. 

"  Ves,  sir." 

For  tlu'  time  he  remained  silent,  ap])arently  .i1)sorbeil 
in  painful  thou<;ht.  Alileane  looked  at  him  with  wonder, 
uiul  euriosity ;  Ins  conduct  was  to  her  inex|)licable.  At 
hist  she  in(|uired: 

"Did  you  know  this  Alice  Deane,  sir?" 

He  started  as  if  the  name  hail  been  an  adder,  and  had 
Htunj;  him,  and  lookinic  at  her  with  an  expression  she 
could  never  forijet,  said: — 

"  Why  do  you  ask  'i    Let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead  !" 

"  So  Alice  Deane  is  dead !"  continued  Aideane,  unheetl- 
inp;  Ids  question,  or  the  remark  th.it  liad  followed  it,  for 
hhe  felt  positive  that  he  liad  once  known  her. 

"Yes,"  he  returned  looking  at  her  as  if  fascinated. 
"  Yes,  yes,  she  is  dead !  She  died  yoimg.  She  Mas 
scarcely  your  age,  young  lady." 

She  was  about  to  ask  nfore  concerning  her  aunt  when 
the  carriage  stopped  before  the  gate  of  Arendell  House. 
Co' unci  Arendell  silently  assisted  Aideane  to  alight, 
placed  the  still  sleeping  Jessie  in  her  arms,  and  turned 
into  a  narrow  and  shaded  path,  as  if  anxious  to  be 
alone. 

Aldeano  was  greatly  perplexed  by  his  conduct.     The 


onb 
thai 
t  r.'iu 
scji  r 
Mrs 
A 

Slllij 

and 

ings 

niaki 

Ilea 

(lissa 

invsl 

hail  I 

It 

she  1 

subje 

a  gen 

and  i 

towai 

"C 

about 

He 

alarm 

lie  sail 

For 

at  len 

her. 

His 
moved 
smoke, 
and  sa 
inoderi 
her  bei 
is  like 
father.' 


bt'fori',  hut  n>j)liiil  lis 

imo  question  tliat  you 
lid,  '  Al'tiT  my  sisUr 
A  uliniist  ahvuyH  calUil 
ii  couwiii  of  till'  Kiiiiu- 
iccniin^iny  uuiit  wiii'ii 
siiin<;  tu  hIiuii  furtiui' 
lul  ail  opporluiiity  of 

you  mourn  !"  ho  Huiil, 
I,  Aldoane   liiouj^lit,  a 


t,  ap])arcntly  a1)sorl)eil 
•il  at  him  witli  wonder, 
hiT  iufxplicable.     At 

I',  sir  ?" 

I'lii  an  adder,  and  had 

ith  an  expression  she 

id  past  bury  its  dead  !" 
niied  Aldeane,  vmheetl- 
at  liad  followed  it,  for 
inown  iier. 

lier  as  if  fascinated, 
ied   young.     She  Mas 

corning  lior  aunt  when 

,te  of  ArendoU  House. 

d    Aldeune   to   alight, 

her  arms,  and  turned 

as   if  anxious  to  be 

by  his  conduct.     The 


ALDEANE. 


03 


only  solution  of  tho  mystorv  that  she  could  frame  was 
that  he  ha.l  once  loved  Alice  D.-ane,  and  that  some 
tragical  event  had  caused  her  death.     Yet  oven  this  was 

scarcely  sunici,.nt  to  explain   his  vio t  ai;ilati.,n,  an.l 

.Mrs  Nevn.s' evident  .listressat  the  mention  of  her  nam.. 
Aldeane  de,M.h.d  to  question  Colonel  Arondell  upon  th.. 
stil.ject  as  soon,  and  as  closely,  as  p..ssil,le.     The  aut  u.nn 
and  winter  passed,  an,l  spring  had  .-ast  her  vernal  otrer- 
ings  over  earth,  before  Aldeano  foun.l  an  opportunity  to 
make  further  impiiries  of  him  concerning  her  ivlal'ive 
He  avoKled  any  allusi.m  to  the  subject,  and  much  to  her 
dissatisfaction  she  still  remained   in  the  same  state  of 
mystery  and  nn.-ertainty  into  which  liis  first  conversation 
nail  thrown  her. 

It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  a  day  in  early  Ai.ril  that 
she  found  hers<.lf  alone  with  him,  and  thought  of  the 
subj.'ct  that  had  so  long  perplexed  her,  and  as  he  was  in 
il  gonial,  talkative  mood,  she  hoped  to  elicit  some  true 
aud  interesting  information  from  him,  so  she  turne.l 
toward  him  with  the  inquiry:— 

"Colonel  Arondell,  will  you  not  toll  mo  8omothin.r 
aliout  my  aunt  Alice  l"' 

He  looked  up  .piiekly  with  an  expression  of  pain  and 
alarni.  "  Why  do  you  ask,  child  y  Lot  the  .load  rest  " 
he  said  bitterly,  ' 

For  a  moment  Aldeane  was  silent.  "  I  ask,"  she  said 
at  length,  "  because  a  mystery  has  always  c'nshroudod 
Iter.     Colonel  Arondell,  did  you  know  her  well';"' 

His  face  was  pale,  and  his  hand  trembled,  as  lie  re- 
moved his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  and  emitted  a  olou.l  of 
smoke.  He  watche.l  it  as  it  curled  ffracefullv  upwar.l 
and  said  slowly :  "  Yes,  I  knew  her.  The  family  were  i.i 
moderate  circumstances,  and  she  was  much  admired  for 
her  beauty.  I  have  sometimes  thoncfht  your  expression 
i«  like  hers,  otherwise  you  more  closely  resemble  your 
father."  ^ 


01 


A L III-: A  A'/;. 


T 


"Oh,  HJr!  you  must  liiivo  l'oii,"'ttfn  liim,"  roturnol 
AM«uiu>.  "lliiivc  luanl  ll>:U  Arthur  is  ii  |.i'rHrl  liW.- 
IH'HS  of  him,  ami  h*-  is  vory  thiriv  iiu<l  hiimlsomt— a  iktIW-I 
niiitniHt  t(»  IMC.     Voii  must  fortifl !" 

"  Well,  |.t  rliaps  I  .h.,"  iu'  iiiisworcd  t«'«tily. 

Ahli'auf,  iu  no  (U'ltivc  (lisnmratti'd,  toutiiuuMl :  "Was 
Auiit  Alifi'  fvtr  maniid  ?     l)i«l  siu'  iVn'  lyu'rctti'd  T 

("t.l.iml  Anuth'll  was  a>:iiiri  wati'hiiiff  tho  |tn>i,'n-ss  of 
the  smoke  as  it  rose  from  iiis  lijts,  au<l  Alfhaut-  await  in-,' 
a  nply,  wli*  n  a  sluwhiw  darki-nod  tiu'  wiM<h>w,  and  >:ian- 
oinu'  n|>  Alili-anc  cau-ihl  a  jrlmipst-  of  tho  lip;uro  of  a 
jfontUinan  wlio  was  no  unfri'ijucut  visitor,  althoujili 
evitionlly  no  vi-ry  wtk-omi'  out'. 

Kcfore  «hi'  coiiltl  Ivave  tin-  room,  as  she  had  fviry 
doHiru  to  do, for  slio  ha«l  an  instinctivu  and  unfomituiahh- 
disliko  of  liim,  ho  was  standing  at  the  door,  howing  and 
emilinjx  most  graciously. 

This  man  was  not  unhandsome  or  ungainly,  yet  he 
carried  himself  as  if  he  possessed  a  i)ainful  conscioasncss 
of  being  hoth.  This  ))erha|)S  it  was  iu  eonjunction  witii 
his  exceeding  fondness  of  tlashy  dress  and  ornament,  that 
proved  at  once  that  he  was  not  a  gentleman,  tliough  he 
claimed  the  name,  and  held  the  jiosition  of  one. 

Aldcane  had  more  reasons  than  her  eyes  gave  her  for 
avoiding  this  man;  for,  altlioiigh  he  was  old  enough  to 
be  her  lather,  he  had  foUowid  her  with  covert,  yet  most 
eager  admiration,  since  their  iirst  meeting. 

This  day,  however,  it  juoved  that  she  had  no  need  to 
avoitl  him,  ibr  he  had  called  but  for  a  moment,  he  said, 
to  have  a  word  upon  business  with  Colonel  Arendell. 
Tliis  word  he  had,  and  then,  with  a  bow  to  Ahleaue, 
departed. 

On  his  way  out  he  met  Leonore,  who,  with  a  cold 
"Good-morning,"  waited  Jbr  him  to  pass  by  her,  and 
then,  lounging  into  the  room  in  her  usual  idle  way,  in- 
quired : — 


T 


iittfn  liiiii,"  ri'turnt'd 
lliiir  is  II  jH'rUrt  lik*'- 
l  hiimlrtoiat— u  piTt'ei't 

'(•(I  toHtily. 

yd,  fonlimUMl :  "  Was 
«'  «lio  rrLfrcllftl  V" 
'liiiijf  tilt'  jiiotjiTss  ol' 
and  Aldt-aiH-  await  in;,' 
lie  wiinliiw,  ami  fjlaii- 
)Hc  ()f  llu'  iip;mo  of  ft 
cut    vixitor,   ultliouj^li 

>in,  as  Hhe  lia<l  cvory 
ivu  uihI  uiicoiHjui'iaMc 
the  door,  bowing  ami 

■i  or  uufiainly,  yet  In- 
V  ])aiii<'ul  coMscioiiHiu'Hrt 
as  in  I'oiijuiK'tion  witli 
ess  ami  ornament,  that 
lit-ntloman,  tliough  lie 
sition  of  ont'. 
her  t'yew  tjave  her  lor 
he  was  old  enough  to 
with  eovert,  yet  most 
meeting. 

at  nhe  had  no  neeil  to 
for  a  moment,  he  naid, 
,'ith  Colonel  Arendell. 
ih  a  bow  to  Aldeane, 

lore,  who,  with  a  cold 
I  to  i)ass  by  her,  and 
her  usual  idle  way,  iu- 


ALDIJAXf:, 


65 


Jnair  "V""f"^^""''"'''  '^'•"•"J^  t<"--l«"-m  his  prom- 
K_,m,>.-,  and   rel.eve   uh  of  the  sight  of  his  seowling 

Aldeane  fhonght  she  sh,.„ld  ,ather  hav,.  naid  "  Hinish-r 

A  .  nd  .11  s  r..,.iy,  wh.eh  was  n..t  uttered  imnu-liately  but 
with  HJou-  and  grave  reproof  ^' 

«::"'wt:!';r:;-l;;;;;^nn:"""^^"""-- 

Leonor..,    said  her  iatlur,  Hushing.  slLditl  y   "  [  .h,.II  1... 

with  m,. "  «iw.        I     •  '  '■'''•''  •'"»'  ''«  n"ir'-y 

"Like  lumv"  i,,  «,;,!,  moodily;  "  who  does  like  him-^ 
l>ut  he  was  y„ur  mother's  cousin,  Leonore,  an.l  for   Z^ 

-yc.e..eer;ithar<Ilybeeomesustospe;kii/of.     r 

^'n,  as  to  siKiiknig  \\\  of  him  "  r<.tm-.,  „i  r  „ 
•I  iWfi^        »   LL  '    ''i"">ed  J-,eonore.  with 

rtl.  t.ous.     IJut  I  ,n  sure,  ,,apa,  when  he  was  your  over- 


GO 


ALDEANE. 


"Yon  liave  an  cxoi'lloit  m(>mory,  Nora,"  said  hor 
father,  and  then  turning  to  Ahleane,  said,  in  an  exphina- 
tory  -way:  "  Hhike  was  in  truth  a  hard  master;  I  used  to 
objeet  in  my  own  mind  vt>ry  much;  but  wiiat  is  the  use 
of  keeping  an  overseer,  if  one  looks  to  the  work,  or  worries 
over  the  punishment  ?  Of  course,  I  let  Blake  have  his 
own  way,  as  every  proprietor  should.  He  had  his  own 
way — a  pretty  rough  way,  I  am  inclined  to  think  now — 
until  I  brought  Ida  to  my  home.  She  immediately  con- 
ceived a  great  dislike  to  him,  and  wished  me  to  dismiss 
him.  I,  however,  was  under  some  trifling  obligations  to 
him,  and  could  not  do  so  immcd-ately.  He  obliginglv 
proposed,  on  a  few  conditions,  to  free  me  of  his  presence. 
A  short  time  after  leaving  me,  he  commenced  speculating 
in  slaves,  and  I  l>elieve  has  done  very  well." 

"What  obligations  were  you  under  to  him,  papa?"  in- 
quired Leonore. 

His  face  flushed  darkly,  as  he  replied :  "  One  is  always 
under  obligations  to  those  who  serve  him,  my  dear ;  you 
would  not  understand  me,  Leonore,  if  I  should  explain. 
It  is  merely  business  matters,  nothing  more." 

Aldeane  could  not  reconcile  the  words  with  the  dark, 
almost  remorseful  expression,  that  remained  upon  his  face 
during  the  remainder  of  the  drive.  The  Arendells,  as 
well  as  other  families,  undoubtedly  possessed  secrets,  and 
Mr,  Blake  might  be  privy  to  them  ;  she  was  merely,  how- 
ever, a  dependent  in  the  family,  and,  therefore,  had  no 
right  to  peer  into  any  of  its  mysteries.  She  was  indeed 
treated  by  all  as  a  beloved  friend  and  equal.  7\rcnd(ll 
House  had  become  to  her  a  pleasant  home,  though  occa- 
sionally events  would  transpire  to  mar  her  calm  enjoy- 
ments. Jessie  was  willful,  Frank  passionate,  and  liddie 
dull  and  stubborn.  They  were  all  affectionate,  and  she 
liked  tliem  well,  yet  they  very  often  annoyed  and  grieved 
her.  leonore  was  always  gentle  and  tractable,  and  had 
made  great  progress  in  her  .studies.    Altogether  Aldeane's 


T 


^LDEANE. 


ry,  Nora,"  said  hor 
',  said,  ill  an  cxplana- 
anl  masti'r;  I  uschI  to 
;  but  wiiat  is  the  use 
o  the  work,  or  worries 
,  I  let  Bhike  have  his 
hi.  He  had  his  own 
lined  to  think  now — 
Slie  immediately  con- 
wished  me  to  dismiss 
trifling  obligations  to 
itely.  He  obliginglj 
ec-  me  of  his  presence. 
)nnnenced  speculating 
•ry  well." 
ler  to  him,  papa?"  in- 


ilicd :  "  One  is  always 
e  him,  my  dear ;  you 
e,  if  I  should  explain, 
ng  more." 

words  with  the  dark, 
•emained  upon  his  face 
e.  The  Arendells,  as 
possessed  secrets,  and 

she  was  merely,  how- 
md,  therefore,  had  no 
ries.  She  was  indeed 
and  equal.  7\rcnd(ll 
it  home,  though  occa- 

mar  her  calm  enjoy- 
passionate,  and  ICddie 
I  affectionate,  and  she 
1  annoyed  and  grieved       | 
md  tractable,  and  had 

Altogether  Aldeane's 


67 


position  was  a  pleasant  one.     Frequent  letters  from  TJelln 

valued  triend.    Thus,  atterf^lM^^^SriLmZS 
the  am.,,,  «,,,  ^ad  rendered  herself  vahu>d  and  Slvc" 


CHAPTER  IX. 


ton 
saw 


GKASSMERK. 

One  beautiful  mornins  in  May,  when  the  full  luxurianco 
of  spvin<r  had  elotlK"<l  the  cartli  in  beauty,  and  when  Al- 
deane  wTis  reminded,  with  feelings  akin  to  homesiekness, 
of  the  oidy  place  where  .^he  ever  liad  before  truly  enjoyed 
the  beauties  of  nature,  that  paradise  of  her  childhood,  Rose 
Cottage,  and  wondered  if  there  could  be  another  spot  so 
lovely.  Colonel  Arendell  said  suddenly,  as  tiiey  were 
seated  at  the  breakfast-table,  "It  is  your  birthday  to- 
morrow, is  it  not,  IVIiss  Guthrie  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied   Aldeane,  "  but  how  did  you  dis- 
cover it  ?     I  am  sure  I  have  told  no  one  !" 

"  I  must  have  learnt  it  from  some  one,"  n-turned  the 
•Colonel,  a  confused  expression  passing  over  his  counte- 
nance, "  for  you  see  I  know  it.     Let  mo  see,  yo»i  will  be 

eighteen."  . 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Aldeane,  stdl  more  surprised,  tor 
she  had  supposed  the  fiimily  considered  her  older. 

"  Oh,  I  know  how  pa  found  it  out,"  cried  Frank ;  "  you 
have  a 'volume  of  poems.  Miss  Guthrie,  with  your  name, 
and  the  date  of  your  seventeenth  birthday,  written  on 
tlie  ily-leaf !     It  was  given  to  you  by  Miss  Ashton." 

"  Yes,  oh  yes !  That  must  have  been  the  way,"  re- 
turned Colonel  Arendell,  laughing;  glad  of  ti:  "l)poi- 
tunity  to  equivocate.  "  But,  Krivnk,  you  seem  to  have 
learned  the  lesson,  as  well  as  I  did." 

"Well!"  said  Frank,  coloring,  "'twas  such  pretty 
writing,  and  besides  Miss  Guthrie  showed  me  Miss  Asli- 


A  LD  BAN  E. 


69 


LX. 


■hen  the  full  luxuriance 
beauty,  and  when  Al- 
akin  to  homesickness, 
id  before  truly  enjoyed 
■  of  her  childhood.  Rose 
uld  be  another  spot  so 
uddenly,  as  tiiey  were 
t  is  your  birthday  to- 

but  how  did  you  dis- 
lo  one !" 

me  one,"  n-turned  the 
issing  over  his  countc- 
Let  mo  see,  yo»i  will  be 

:ill  more  surprised,  for 

idered  her  oldei*. 

lit,"  cried  Frank ;  "  you 

iithrie,  with  your  name, 

th  birthday,  written  on 

1  by  Miss  Ashton." 

ve  been  the  way,"  re- 

II <i;  glad  of  ti;     oj)poi- 

tvnk,  you  seem  to  have 

id." 

ijT,  "'twas   such   pretty 

ie  showed  me  Miss  Asli- 


ton's  likeness;  and  she  is  the  prettiest  young  lady  I  ever 
saw.     Oil !  she  is  a  beauty !"  ^ 

"Yes,"ehimed  in  Jessie;  "she's  a  heap  prettier  than 
M.SS  Aldeane,  for  she's  got  curls  and  blue  ev..s  " 

.<,,/^"rT". ''"*''  "'>'  ^''■""•'"  i"tern.pted  Mrs.'Arendeil 
"Miss  Gnthne  may  not  like  them.  fer  brown  e^e  a  e 
-  pretty  as  Miss  Ashton's  blue,  if  you  wouM  ll^  ,.- Ik 

"Xo,  they  ain't;  and  Miss  Guthrie's  mouth  is  as  bi.. 
j.ga.n    as  M.SS  Ashton's,"  returned  Jessie,  shakin.      "• 
load,,,„u  ly;  "and  she's  mighty  good  too,  for"^M 
Aldeane  told  „u.  so,  and  I  want  to  see  her  "' 

"Well!    my   ehild,"   said   the    colonel,   "I'm    afrai.l  ' 
your   desire  w.ll   not   soon  be   gratified.     But  we         e 

s,x.ak.ng  of  your  birthday.  Miss  Guthrie ;  we  must  h^^^^^ 
It.     UJ.at  do  you  say  to  a  visit  to  Grassmere?" 

Aldeane  had  often  heard  this  ,,laee  spoken  of  as  an 
e.ue  belonging  to  Colonel  Aren.lell,  soml  tM-elve  miles 
wl-'l  T  ^^'"\"^^^'^».V«  represented  as  exeeedinglv 
.he  inwardly  hoped  the  proposition  would  meet  witli 
!wd:-'"™"      '"'   "'   •""''   ''■°™   '^^'^^'^''   ^'^^   -^■ 

"Oh,  yes!  let  us  go  to  Grassmere!  Tlie  apples  and 
phims  are   getting   ripe   there.     Uncle  Adam   told   me 

"  What  do  you  say  to  it,  Ida?"  queried  Colonel  Are.- 

V  ,''''';  ^'''"  ''''"''^  '^'^^  t*^  SO,  Miss  Guthrie  v» 

1  es,  indeed,  sir !" 

"Well,  then,  by  all  means  let  us  go.  It  is  a  very 
pleasant  place,"  said  Mrs.  Arendell.  ^ 

"Hurrah,  for  Grassmere  !"  sliouted  Frank,  dashin<r  out 

ot  the  room,  to  indulge  more  freely  in  his  exclamations 

ot  joy  and  triumph:    while  Eddie  secretly  thou-ht  of 

he  promised  respite  from  books  with  the   greatest  do- 


70 


ALDEANE. 


fJo  it  was 


All  ciitcri'd  into  the  plan  with  enthusiasm, 
doeiiled  that  they  wonkl  go. 

The  next  morning  at  dawn,  Jessie  entered  Aldeane's 
room,  bringing  a  little  hook-mark,  which  under  Leonore's 
tuition  she  had  Avorked;  her  fingers  were  still  sore  from 
the  pricks  they  had  received. 

Upon  her  desceni  to  the  piazza,  the  hoys  presented 
her  with  two  beautiful  bouquets,  s[)arkling  with  dew. 
Frank  vaiidy  endeavored  to  press  upon  her  acceptance 
his  new  riding-whip,  while  Eddie  brought  her  the  new 
''  Reader "  he  hud  lately  commenced,  and  ussured  her 
that  he  should  be  most  happy  to  give  it  to  her,  if  she 
would  only  keep  it  out  of  his  sight,  Leouore  presented 
her  with  a  set  of  jet  jewelry,  and  Colonel  and  ]Mi-8.  Aren- 
dell  with  something  still  more  valuable,  in  the  form  of  a 
chain  for  her  watcli.  Aldeane  rejoiced  at  receiving  these 
presents,  not  because  of  their  intrinsic  worth,  but  that 
they  were  assurances  of  the  love  and  esteem  of  those  she 
was  most  desirous  to  please. 

At  an  early  hour  the  carriage,  and  the  ponies  for 
Frank  and  Eddie,  were  at  the  g.ate.  The  boys  were 
mounted  long  before  the  rest  of  the  party  were  ready  to 
start,  and  were  prancing  up  and  down  the  gravel  walks 
laughing,  shouting,  making  themselves  greatly  in  the 
,way,  and  intensely  annoying. 

Aunt  Roxy  placed  a  bountiful  supply  of  provisions  in 
the  carriage,  exclaiming,  "Ugh!  it's  no  use  trustin'  to 
dem  ar  niggers,  they're  just  sure  not  to  give  yer  any 
thin'  but  liap-jacks  an'  pone,  an'  may  be  a  bit  of  fried 
chicken.  Here's  de  goo'd  things  right  in  dis  basket ! 
Now  you,  Jule,  don't  you  go  hookin'  the  cakes,  and  you 
Ad  im,  jest  as  shua  as  you  tech  one  drop  of  that  wine,  I 
hoi)e  'twill  i)isen  yer !     That's  sartain  I"    ) 

Colonel  Arendell  and  the  ladies,  to  the  great  joy  of  the 
buys,  were  at  last  seated  in  the  carriage,  and  they  were 
soon  cii  route  for  Grassmere.     A  pleasant  drive  of  nbout 


T 


lUliusiiiKm.     'Jo  it  was 

<sif  entered  Aldeane's 
which  under  Leonore's 
:8  were  still  sore  from 

;a,  the  hoys  presented 

sparkling   with   dew, 

i  upon  her  acceptance 

brought  her  the  new 

iced,  and  assured  her 

give  it  to  her,  if  she 

t.     Leouore  presented 

Jolonel  and  j\Irs.  Aren- 

iiable,  in  the  form  of  a 

liced  at  receiving  these 

nnsic  worth,  but  that 

lid  esteem  of  those  she 

e,  and  the  ponies  for 
gate.  The  boys  were 
he  party  were  ready  to 
down  the  gravel  walks 
iselves   greatly  in   the 

supply  of  provisions  in 
it's  no  use  trustin'  to 
e  not  to  give  yer  any 
may  be  a  bit  of  fried 
?  right  in  dis  basket ! 
kin'  the  cakes,  and  you 
»ne  drop  of  that  wine,  I 
tain!"    ; 

,  to  the  great  joy  of  the 

arriagc,  and  they  wore 

)k'asant  drive  of  iibout 


AIDE  AXE. 


ri 


f no  hours  brought  then,  to  their  destination.     The  house 

u-ry  hu<.,  .i„i„„„  „,.,„i,- ,,„„.„  ,„  ,1,^     - ,,.,;';  "' 

'"■"•  '•'"•'■'■•■'I  »itl,  ,-liml,ins  n.w»  ami  h,n,in,.    . 

"  ""'>•  »'■  "■>•  i—  ..-1  .n,  uh":  a'Zod  V  ;',n" 

over  which  time  Juid  cast  a  mantle  of  de.-.v  .      ^  ' 

o'^cc.  amid  the  vernal  Uo.:^^^^;^:^ 

...nded  It.     A  wild  trumpet-vine  had  essayed  to  ,i^J 

Z^^'^l'T^^  of  beauty,  and  hLl  pl^^l^ 
"oceedt  CI.  It  ha.l  crept  over  the  walls  and  roof  leavin.r 
''owever,  parts  of  the  rough  bark  visi).',-  ^^S,  .  ,  1  '^' 
o;.^  grimly  tVom  the  verdant  framing.  P^:^  "^ 
v."e  floated  upon  the  air,  and  drooped  with  n  h  ho  i 
h-om  apertures  in  the  roof.  It  was  a  bea  f  ob^^ 
1".  tot..lly  m,.ompatible  with  those  surrounding,  it  "^  ' 
Ihe  housekeoper-a  little  thin,  nervous  muhmo' wom- 

ZT^  "       y  ■'  ""'«  "^'^^••"'^■^'  ™^'t  thorn  at  tlu.  Z 
.cm ingly  overjoyed  at  their  unexpecte  :  arrival.       "'      ' 
ilere,  you  .lube  and  Andy!''  she  exclaimed   "whir's 
ur  manners  ?    Take  your  young  mass'rs'  horl.  ^ ^i 
'"'  t,  if  you  don't  move  a  loetle  faster  I'll  ,.,,11  ..ii  i 

;:;j;;em  thick  heads  o'youn.:,^;.JKl^^^^ 

cd  Jessie  out  of  the  can-iage,  "how  yer  ha     ^rown 
c    yer  old  Auut  Samiry  seed  ye  last !     I'm  ri.-ht^  gbd 

tu  see  yer,  Mass'r  John  an'  Miss  Idy,  and  Mi^  J^ 


T« 


ALDEANE. 


l)e  house  18  fit  for  yor  to  walk  right  hiterjust  the  same 
as  if  1  kiiow<l  you  was  a  comin'." 

Aunt  .^amira  stopped  hor  voh.bility,  having  cxhauste-< 
hor  breath,  and  ^Irs.  Arondell  replied  to  her  greeting,  and 
those  of  the  other  servants,  as  she  led  the  way  to  the  par- 
l..r  a  large,  handsome  room,  well  furnished,  but,  after  the 
manner  of  a  past  age,  every  thing  was  dark,  heavy  and 
substantialA  The  ehildren  soon  went  out  to  go  w>th  the 
negroes  infeareh  of  ripe  fruit;  and  after  the  ladies  had 
rested.  Colonel  Arendell  said:— 

"  Ida,  I  am  going  to  show  :Miss  Guthrie  over  the  house. 
AVill  you  come  with  us?" 

"  Spare  me  the  infliction  !"  replied  ^Irs.  Arendell,  laugh- 
in.r  "  It  is  too  warm  for  such  exercise.  Leonore  and  1  will 
look  around  Aunt  Samira's  domains  while  you  are  gone. 

»  Come,  then,  Jdiss  Guthrie.     I  don't  think  you  will  hnd 
it  very  fatiguing!"  said  the  colonel,  as  he  led  the  way  up- 
Bfiirs     "  There  are  some  curious  things  in  this  old  housi-, 
at  least  so  they  seem  to  me.     It  is  the  house  in  which 
my  parents  lived  and  died.     This  is  the  room  they  usu- 
ally occupied,  and  their  shadows  do  so  still.     Don  t  shud- 
der.    1  do  not  mean  their  ghosts— but  merely  their  por- 
traits, which  arc  lifelike."  .,     ^      •  ,     i 
The  room  was  large,  and  well  but  gloomily  furnished. 
A  high-posted  bedstead,  with  crimson  curtains,  stood  in 
one  corner,  and  between  the  windows  a  large  old-lasli- 
ioned  bureau.     High-backed  chairs,  grim  and  black  witli 
•icre  were  scattered  about  the  room ;  above  the  mantel- 
pTece,  which  was  very  long,  and  low,  hung  two  oil-paint- 
ings-the  portraits  of  the  departed  owners.     Mr.  Aren- 
dtai  appeared  to  be  about  of  the  same  age  as  the  son  who 
was  now  contemplating  him;  possessing,  too,  m  a  great 
decrree,  the  same  physiognomy  ;  the  same  calm  gray  eyes, 
the  same  high  forehead  and  light,  wavy  hair;  but  the 
firm,  sternly-set  mouth,  which  gave  so  much  expression 
to  the  count.niii.ee  of  the  father,  was  wanting  in  that  ot 


inter,  just  the  same 


y,  having  cxhaiisti-d 
to  her  j.Troeting,  an<l 
I  tlicway  to  the  piir- 
nished,  but,  iiilvr  tlic 
I'as  darlc,  heavy,  and 
It  out  to  go  witli  the 
after  the  ladies  had 

ithrie  over  the  housse. 

^Irs.  Arendell,  huigh- 
e.  Leonore  and  1  will 
wliile  you  are  gone." 
I't  think  you  will  iind 
as  he  led  the  way  up- 
ngs  in  this  old  house, 
9  the  house  in  which 
s  the  room  they  usu- 
so  still.  Don't  shud- 
-but  merely  their  por- 

it  gloomily  furnished. 
«on  curtains,  stood  in 
ows  a  large  old-fash- 
,  grhn  and  black  with 
m ;  above  the  mantel- 
r,  hung  two  oil-paint- 
i  owners.  Mr.  Aren- 
nc  age  as  the  son  who 
Gssing,  too,  ui  a  great 
1  same  calm  gray  eyes, 
,,  wavy  hair;  but  the 
e  so  nuich  expression 
,as  wanting  in  that  of 


ALDEANE. 


73 


1 


but  .hoy  „„„  „„„y  J,  „>:-,„„7  '"«■  '"«'■  .n»tmme„„, 
JN  o ,  never  smee  I  have  been  marned      Mv  fi..«,t  ^f 

Wot  L  r  r  ■'«■»'■?'■' ™"'  too  „„„,.  Mttef  Ll 

"•->  n..i\t  It  tnen  I"  she  exclaimed      "T  t^^v,^  *u 

Si  :,rvor  r°"  '^"t^  ""'■^»  ••■--"■*- 

he  reu  :j  ,  :,    V  "''  '  '".''''  ■•"  *"  '■'"""  !««"■«  "o  gol" 


74 


ALDEANE. 


safp  opcniiiod  a  ^\m-o.  ltd  ween  two  book-slu'lvcs ;  upon  it 

Htnoil  !i  portfolio  full  of  pajn'rs. 

"llm>,  in  this  room,"  said  Colonel  Arendcll,  "was  the 

foul(>st  disjrriico,  openly  branded  \\\>on  my  family.     Oh ! 

William,  William!  I  believed  yon  cuilty  thoul   'Twould 

almost  be  a  comfort  to  believe  it  still.' 

Aldeane  was  distressed  at  the  tone  of  despair,  and  the 

remorseful   manni'r  in  whieh  these  words  were  sjtoken. 

Looking?  up.  Colonel  Arendell  read  these  emotions  in  her 

face.     "We  will  go  now.  Miss  Guthrie,"  he  sai<l.     "Do 

not  be  frightened,  child.     To  you  I  speak  in  enigmas. 

Well!  'tis  better  so.     You  do  not  now  understand  mo, 

but  you  will  at  some  time.     Yes,  yes !" 

He  arose  and  paced  the  apartment  excitedly,  while 
Aldeane  regarded  him  with  perplexed  and  sorrowful 
looks.  At  length  she  said,  "  Come,  sir !  let  us  not  stay 
here  longer !  The  very  air  seems  chilled !  I  can  not 
dwell  with  mysteries.  Come.  Do  come  away  I  Let  us 
go  Avhere  there  is  sunlight  and  air." 

"  Yes,  wc  will  go  now.  The  mystery  will  be  unraveled 
at  some  time,  my  child.  Do  not  speak  of  this  before  ray 
family ;  I  am  always  calm  before  thetn ;  but  a  visit  to 
this  place  always  unnerves  me."  He  passed  his  liand 
over  his  face;  Aldeane  noticed  that  it  was  white  and 
trembling.  She  was  deeply  aiVected  by  his  emotion,  and 
thou"-ht  "there  must  indeed  be  some  great  cause  to 
to  produce  so  strange  an  effect  upon  one  who  possesses 
so    gay    and    careless   a    temperament    as    he    always 

exhibits."  .  ^      ^^  e    K^ 

They  left  the  room,  and  with  a  feeling  of  relict  Al- 
deane issued  from  the  gloomy  place,  yet  with  a  thrill  of 
terror,  that  prompted  her  to  look  back  as  she  crossed  the 
threshol.l.  Colonel  Arendell  noticed  it,  .and  taking  her 
hand  led  her  down  the  stairs, ^saying;  "Your  face  is 
blanched,  and  your  hands  are  cold  with  horror  at  my 
mysteries.     This    is    needless.     Call    back    color    and 


ci 


v< 


tiro. 


)k-HlK'lvcs ;  upon  it 

\ron(l('ll,  "  was  tlio 
1  my  iiimily.  Oh  I 
It y  thou!   'Twould 

of  (lespah-,  and  the 
'onls  -were  8i)(»kon. 
'SO  emotions  in  her 
if,"  ho  sai<l.  "  Do 
spoak  in  onijjmas. 
ow  undorstand  me, 

nt  excitedly,  while 
xed  and  sorrowM 
Kir  !  lot  us  not  stay 
■hillod!  I  can  not 
ome  away !     Let  us 

ry  will  be  unraveled 
k  of  this  before  my 
em;  but  a  visit  to 
;e  passed  his  liand 
,  it  was  white  and 
by  his  emotion,  and 
me  great  cause  to 
,  one  who  possesses 
ent    as    he    always 

'celing  of  relief  Al- 
yct  with  a  thrill  of 
■k  as  she  crossed  the 

I  it,  and  taking  her 
ing-j   "Your  face   is 

with  horror  at  my 

II  back    color    and 


-^  L  ni::A  NE. 


are   too 


iip-stairs.  '  '  ""'^'   *''<^  gloomy  scene 

"i-H  tne  first  time  I  came  lii.i-<.  i„.  *\ 
pi-o|)er  to  turn  nale  in  onn  nf  H  ^''""-    '- 

tI.o  reason   a.,d  .,   i  ?,.  '"  ''""'"''  ""•'  ^^■''""  I  ^^^cd 

most  dren^l'fh      t     V  ''""•  '^"'^^''"•-  '^'  ''«  tol.l  rn.    ho 

hon.ih,o^;:::',r;:^.:r:;;;:;7;:;^7M  ten  times  „,„., 

or  three  ot'^c^  olV.mh  .Z      :Vt  V'  ^'"'''''  '•*"''  ""  '"  ^^^'o 

fr<^ --II  believe  h^r;-:,?::;::!:;,^^^^^^ 

-re  mere  fieU;  ;^:i*  r^L^^'  ^'T  ^^'^^     -^"^ 

though  he  goes  through   v   I, T  *'^^/I'".*/  «"PPose;  but 
been  able  tS  frighten  mo  o"':  "     '''  '"^"^  '^^  '  '^'^  "--• 

an^:;;:;:ri;:;:r^;!r  *^'7"^  °'*^«  ^'--  -^ 

where  they  fo    .T  the         ,  T"*    ''^    *''«   <lining-room, 
lioxv's  eare  seemed  to  h  "      ,  ''"""^'^^^'^  ^Proad.     Ann 
i'"I"od  it  had  bTe.  ,  '  ^'""  "-^P^"^!^'!  i"  vain,  and 

boon  bro  Jht  in   S  '    • '  ""  "'"  ^"'''^^^^  «^  ^'^libles  had 

J  "^'^'^")  "'••I  at  last  observofl  •  "  Wr.ii  i  t 

do  M'oiider,  if  flat  ole  flml   1?         ^'^t«-      Well!  now  I 

fare,  quicker  'n  lightni,.'.  "Bv^.  hear f'^  ^""  '"'"'^"  "!'  "" 


76 


ALDEANE. 


rhil.lron,  whil.-  Undo  A.lsim   ntivsUed  himHolf  with  ii 
I'lii'^H  ofwim-  iiml  Home  coM  chickiii.    1 

Dinner  was  at  last  conolu.Ud,  af/.l  aftor  numorou. 
t.>astH  to  AMcanc'rt  b.'alth  and  i.ros,,onty  ha.l  been 
drunk;  all  i.n.pan-.l  lor  a  ran.l.lc  over  the  f^roun.lH 
Thcv  proved  to  be  very  beaiitifnl  and  extensive,  t  ohn.el 
Arendell  and  Aldenne  were  walkin-,'  to.trether;  they 
reaehed  the  vine-o'er-rown  arb..r.  Within  was  a  eruni- 
blin.'  seat;  she  entered  and  sat  down  ;  the  eolonel  stood 
befon-  lier.  She  instinetively  felt  that  he  alone  eould  tell 
the  history  of  the  old  plaee ;  therefore  she  saul :— 

"Why  have  you  suttered  this  j.laee  to  deeay,  C  olonel 
Arendell,  when  you  have  kept  all  Hurroundinj;  it  ii.  sueh 
excellent  rej.air  ?     Do  you  fancy  this  wild  beauty  V 

"  Somewhat,"  he  replied,  glancinji  back.  Ihs  wile  and 
Leonorc  were  discussinjr  Honu-  lu.usehold  matter  with 
Aui>t  Samira,  near  the  house;  the  children  were  playin- 
at  8omo  diHtance.  "  I  do  not  let  this  ruin  stand  tor  that 
alone,"  he  continued ;"  but  because  I  can  not  hn<l  it  in 
mv  heart  to  pull  down  this  ancient  arbor,  in  whuh  1  so 
often  r)laye.l  in  childhood.  Neither  will  I  assist  it  to 
remain,  since  here  was  passed  the  bitterest  moments  ot 
my  life  This  spot  is  intimately  associated  with  memo- 
ries of  one,  whom  I  have  not  seen  for  years.  We  parted 
in  anc'or,  but  we  had  loved  in  chil.lhood,  and  even  now 
my  heart  is  burstinjj  with  the  memory  and  reality  ()1 
love,  llemorse,  too,  for  a  deed  <lone  by  the  instigation 
of  one  who  should  have  led  mc  from  all  evil,  is  eating 

my  heart  away." 

"And   can    you   not    repair  that   evil?"   questioned 

Aldeane.  ,  on   i. 

"Not  now!  not  now!  Why  do  you  ask  mc?  he 
replied  fiercely  smiting  his  forehead  with  his  open  hand. 
"  I'.ut  it  shall  be  done,"  he  continued  more  gently.  "  Soon, 
soon!  But  not  now.  I  can  not  do  it  now,  my  child. 
You  have  seen  me  in  my  true  character  to-day,  a  creature 


a 
h 
it 
ill 

en 
III 

.i'l 
bii 

hk 

aw 

Iiei 

< 

his 

wJi 

den 

thn 

in  1 

wre 

phu 

dec! 

the 

"( 

musi 

Al 

"Ic; 

"( 

your 

AL 

rose-1 

hair. 


led  himHolf  with  a 

f(l   iil'tor   mimoro\j!< 
osjH-rity    had    bci'ii 
oviT  the   fjrouiiilH. 
?xU'nsivt'.     Cohnu'l 
ig    t()i;<'tliiT ;   tlu'j' 
VVithiM  was  a  criim- 
;  the  foloiu'l  stood 
t  he  alone  coiiUl  tell 
•c  she  Haul : — 
;c  to  deeay,  Colonel 
rroundin<jj  it  in  Hueh 
wild  beauty?" 
Imek.     His  wile  and 
(ehold  nuitter,  with 
lildren  were  iilayint? 
I  ruin  stand  for  that 
I  ean  not  find  it  in 
arbor,  in  whieh  I  8o 
r  will  I  assist  it  to 
itterest  monu'iits  of 
lociatcd  Avith  m(>mo- 
r  years.     We  parted 
ihood,  and  even  luiw 
nory  and  reality  of 
c  by  the  instigation 
om  all  evil,  is  eating 

,t   evil?"   questioned 

I  you  ask  mc?"  ho 
[  with  his  open  hand, 
more  gently.  "  Soon, 
lo  it  now,  my  ehild. 
'ter  to-day,  a  creature 


ALDEANE.  >,^ 

of  passionate  impulses,  and    n.orbi.I    fi...li„.,,       r,,,,„    ., 

„ii,iii\  ('.veiled  lo-(ljiv  !ii'<"  iwii.illi.   I 

-n-ti:;;:;;;::;;'iT:;:^,/:;;7i::;::-;'« 

"»pt'>veived  ha.l  joined  th..m      »  V..„         b  '  '''"' 

h,,/i;.    ^  ^-'  ^  '<  t  }  ou  speak  to  him  again,  while  we  are 

-i-hadtheiiuric  r^ii^i::';;"^^^--'''^-"' 

'l^--«"o  joine,!  Leonon.  and  Mr  An,  IT'"''"'-  ^^'■ 
tl-ough  theflower-ganlen  .„K  ift."^'  ,  .'"  "  '^'""^ 
i»  "..e  of  the  arho,;  em/'i^'r"'' ;'''■"  ^'"!"^ 
^ayly,  she  lbun.l  an.  .10  e„:;.I  .'nie  t  J"  l"'""""- 
wreaths  and  bouquets  the  .„»:.?,  '''''""""'K'  "'»<> 
l.lneke,7  T-  .  V''"*""^  numerous  blossoms  they  had 
piUfKed.  Jessie,  Leom.re,  and  Mrs  A.v...  i  n  '"-y  "^^ 
deeked  with  wreaths   m.l    V  ^^■'-'"•J^'H,  were  soon 

.1  .   .    "'^'"^"S  "1"  Aldeanc  was  abonf  tn.  ^i... 

t lie  remamn.r  flowers  jisi.lo  «.i>       t      •  *'""^^ 

"Oh  •  A[i«.  r   II  '       ''"  '^™'''^  ^'velaimed:- 

musfLvetnet;;^::''  ^'^^  ^^-'^  ^'y  "^-rs.     You 
''•■ur.  with  the  inquiry:  "  Will  that  ioT'>  "  '"   ^''^ 


78 


A  Li)  E  AXE. 


"N..."  ftiiswoml  Mrs.  AiviuI.H.  "It  in  too  great  a 
coiitnis'l;  h.M.Us,  wliili'  uii.l  liliK'k  iirc  too  wmibor." 

"I  will  lultl  Homc  jjoldcu-liiiirli'd  violi-ts  tlicn.  I  cnn 
not  wfar  sraycicoli.rrt  yi't  !"  an.l  licr  c-yos  tlllcl  with  tears 
ns  «lie  tiionylit  of  her  motlier,  whose  favorite  flowers  »he 

then  held. 

The  Huiiuner  nfteriioon  was  waninif.  The  snii  was 
pil.linj-'  tlie  rou.^'h  trunks  of  tiie  old  Irei'S,  and  li^'htln,^' 
up  as  witli  fire  the  hirj^e  windowH  of  the  luausiou,  when 
Frank  ran  uj)  to  tell  theni  that  tin-  earriajre  would  soon  he 
nady.  Tiu-y  repaired  to  tiie  house  to  partake  (.f  some 
sliu'lit  refreslunent,  and  soon  after  departed,  leaving  Aunt 
Samira,  Tnele  Charley,  th.'  overseer,  and  the  sahle  erew, 
they  professed  to  govern,  in  great  delight  at  their  mus- 
ter's eoninu'ndation. 

All  seemed  in  exeellent  spirits,  and  the  ride  homo, 
enlivened  by  jests  and  laugiiter,  passed  quiekly.  Stdl, 
thoughts  of  Colonel  Areiidell's  strange  eonduet  through- 
out the  day  would  intrude  upon  AhUane's  mind.  It 
seemed  searcely  possible  that  the  man  who  was  now 
heartily  participating  in  the  merriment  of  those  around 
hira,  without  one  shade  of  gloomy  thought  upon  his 
countenance,  could  bo  the  same  who,  at  numerous  tunes 
throughout  the  day,  hud  betrayed  such  serious  and 
troubled  emotions.  Yet  she  liked  him  better  in  the  real 
character  of  which  she  had  caught  momentary  glimpses, 
than  in  the   gay   dissemblemeat   in   which   he   usually 

appeared.  i    •   om  i 

"  IIow  have  you  enjoyed  jourself.  Miss  Guthrie?  he 
asked,  as  ho  assisted  her  to  alight  on  their  arrival  at 

Arcndell. 

"  Excellently,  but  very  strangely,  for  I  have  passed 
through  a  labyrinth  of  riddles," 

"  They  will  all  be  solved  at  some  time.  But  not  now  ! 
not  now !"  he  replied,  a  troubled  look  passing  oyer  his 
face.     "  Go  into  the  house,  my  dear,  the  dew  is  falling.    1 


si 

in 

en 

(•r 

an 
lie 


It  is  too  ji;roat  a 

too  HOlllltlT." 

)litH  tlii'ii.  I  I'iin 
■IS  tilh'il  with  tcar.i 
iivoiitc  tloworrt  hIu; 

jf.  Till-  Sim  Wiis 
InvH,  and  li}j;hting 
llu-  iniiiisioii,  wlu'U 
iatit'  uoiiltl  siiou  l)e 
to  jiartakc  of  f>omo 
irtt'd,  li'aving  Aunt 
uid  tlu'  sal)lf  crow, 
■liglit  at  their  mus- 

nd   tlu'  ride  homo, 

HC'd  quirkly.     Still, 

;e  condiu't  through- 

.hU'uno's   mind.     It 

man  who  was  now 

■lit  of  those  around 

thought    upon   his 

at  numerous  times 

8uch   serious    and 

in  better  in  the  real 

lomentary  glimpses, 

which   he   usually 

,  Miss  Guthrie  ?"  he 
on  their  arrival  at 

,  for  I  bave  passed 

imc.  But  not  now  1 
ok  passing  over  his 
the  dew  is  falling.    1 


Ann  EA  ^E,  ^g 

Aldcane    took    .Tessie'H    hand,    and.    sadiv    perplex..! 
.■ntered  the  house      AHer  s„, ,,  ...,.si..  „..i   ,1  |,,ci.,y 

;'•"'  "♦  •'  l.'t.-  hour  she  retired  to  rest,  having  well  enjoyed 
her  eighteenth  hirthdav.  ^  ^ 


CIIAPTEli  X. 

"JANUARY    AND    JIAY." 

Quite  unconsciously  to  herself  lier  piquancy  and  grace 
upon  that  evening  luid  won  for  Aldeane  more  admiration 
than  any  beauty  of  face  or  form  could  possibly  have 
done.  More  than  one  young  gentleman  returned  to  his 
home  witli  visions  of  her  as  its  loved  and  loving  mistress. 
But  these,  young  as  they  were,  for  some  time  at  least, 
kept  their  own  counsel,  and  it  M-as  oidy  from  the  most 
unwelcome  source  that  Aldeane  Guthrie  received  any 
intimation  of  her  power. 

Upon  the  following  day,  accompanied  by  the  children, 
she  went  a  short  distance  up  the  river  in  search  of  yellow 
jasmine,  which  they  assured  her  grew  there  in  great 
quantities,  and  the  party  having  pursued  their  search 
together  in  vain,  the  boys  left  her  and  Jessie,  asking  thorn 
not  to  leave  the  spot,  and  promising  soon  to  return  with 
the  floral  treasure. 

Being  slightly  fatigued  Aldeane  suffered  Jessie  to  wan- 
der a  short  distance  iVom  her,  and  sat  down  at  the  foot  of 
a  large  beech-tree  which  overhung  the  water.  Fearing 
Jessie  might  go  too  far,  she  turned  to  look  after  her,  when 
a  voice  speaking  her  name  startled  her  violently. 

"I  did  not  know  you  were  here,"  she  involuntarily 
exclaimed,  starting  to  her  feet,  f^nd  regarding  the  intruder 
with  no  flattering  expression. 

"  Pardon  me,"  returned  Mr.  Blake,  for  it  were  he.  "  The 
boys,  whom  I  met  just  now,  told  me  you  were  here,  and  I 


Ci 

w 

at 

in 
le: 
kii 
an 

hei 

th£ 

( 

tov 
fut 

I 

alai 

"Li 

lias 

me;i 

whi 

surr 
(( 

rapii 

mon 

and 

that 

I  lo^ 

"1 

say 

Jessi 

leave 

lie 

had  < 

said  t 

instai 


ALDEANE. 


81 


piquancy  and  grace 
me  more  admiration 
Duld  possibly  liave 
man  returned  to  liis 
and  loving  mistress, 
some  time  at  least, 
only  from  the  most 
utlirie  received  any 

lied  by  the  children, 
•  in  star'.h  of  yellow 
rew  there  in  great 
ursued  their  search 
I  Jessie,  asking  them 
soon  to  return  with 

ififered  Jessie  to  wan- 
t  down  at  the  foot  of 
the  water.  Fearing 
look  after  her,  when 
er  violently. 
^,"  she  involuntarily 
'garding  the  intruder 

for  it  were  he.    "The 
you  were  here,  and  I 


O„o,nomoi,t!  Co  niomcnt, JMis»  (Jntlnio  I  l,,..ri"  I,. 

SifcMiop:!."''"''  ^"^  ""'^ ""» "»w""-»  "'■  ■■■? 

Even  at  that  moment,  wlien  sIip  wna  i,«ti 

n.on.<.«  „,•„,„  .„,,„ai„,„„„.,  with  '    U'l,  ^0    ^  oTn 
and  admiration.      Allow  me  tl.,.,.   Af?      '»,    ^  ^' ^^^^'"n 

I    ove  you  „„,,  ,,„a      „,,.  ,,,„  ,„  „7;  :  J"' 

sav  „„  ""'•'■  'J"'    *°  '■'■I'"'-"'  »"l'  <liS"ity     ■' Pray 

My    no    nore    B,r,  u  can  never  bo;"   an.l  callin'    to 


82 


ALLEANE. 


asked  you  to  love  me,  thoujjli  if  you  shoulcl  marry  me,  1 
liiivc  no  fear  but  my  constant  kindness  would  lead  you  to 
do  so.  Your  love  I  do  not  exact,  although  I  at  k  you  to  be 
my  wife." 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  returned  Aldeane,  with  a  curling 
lip,  "  but  I  am  too  young  to  consider  the  possibility  of 
marrying  without  love." 

"  Ah,  Miss  Aldeane,  that  is  so  very  uaturul !"  he  ex- 
claimed in  atfected  admiration;  "but  really  one  of  your 
amiable  disposition  could  not  fail  to  love  one  to  whom 
you  were  advantageously  married." 

Aldeane  looked  at  him  a  moment  with  flashing  eyes, 
and  then  most  quietly  said:  "You  wish,  sir,  to  remind 
me  that  I  am  a  poor  governess,  and  you  a  rich  planter." 

"  Oh,  no  !  no  !"  lie  returned  earnestly ;  "  believe  me  that 
I  have  no  wish  to  remind  you  of  any  tiling  unpleasant  in 
your  own  position,  while  I  may  surely  be  excused  for  wish- 
ing you  to  remember  whatever  is  agreeable  in  mine." 

"1  remember  both,"  she  answered,  "but  neither  in- 
fluence me.  It  (!an  be  no  secret  to  you,  ]\Ir.  Blake,  that  1 
possess  a  natural  antipathy  to  you,  as  real  and  strong  as 
if  I  were  a  victim  of  your  enmity  and  malice." 

Strangely  as  she  looked  at  him,  his  head  drooped,  and 
every  vestige  of  color  forsook  his  face.  "Pardon  me," 
she  added  quickly,  though  she  could  imagine  no  reason 
for  tl^  sudden  change  in  him. — "  pardon  me  if  I  have 
spoken  plainly,  but  it  is  better  so  at  such  a  time.  Ter- 
liaps  I  ought  to  thank  you,  Mr.  Blake,  for  the  honor  you 
liave  done  me.  At  any  rate  i  do  so,  while  I  must  decline 
it."     And  again  she  attemptbd  to  leave  him. 

"  Wait,  wait !"  he  exclaimed  huskily,  once  more  detain- 
ing her.  "Indeed,  Miss  Aldeane,  I  do  love  you;  just 
considor  the  matter  for  a  moment  oow  !  Pray  do.  Per- 
haps you  refuse  me,  because  I  was  once  Colonel  Areiidell's 
overseer,  but  I  was  also  the  cousin  of  his  flrst  wife  ;  the 
family  is  unexceptionable,  I  assure  you  !" 


w 

to 
ra 

sil 

yc 

de 
Bl 

lea 

i 

ela 
bol 

(pii 

Hot 

J 

tlia 
mil] 
fort 
you 

it  s 
mig 
excl 
wori 
mys 
is  it 

"Iv 


thinl 
dos!' 
be,  a 


A  L  D  EA  NIS. 


S3 


ihoukl  marry  me,  1 
}  would  lead  you  to 
ugh  I  at  k  you  to  bo 

janc,  with  a  curling 
•  the  possibility  ol' 

y  uaturul !"  he  ex- 
really  one  of  your 
love  one  to  whom 

with  flashing  eyes, 
vish,  sir,  to  remind 
yrou  a  rich  planter." 
v;  "  believe  me  that 
thing  unpleasant  in 
be  excused  for  wish- 
eeable  in  mine." 
1,  "but  neither  in- 
u,  Mr.  Blake,  that  1 
?  real  and  strong  as 

malice." 

head  drooped,  and 
ice.     "  Pardon  me," 

imagine  no  reason 
ardou  me  if  I  have 

such  a  time.  Per- 
^,  for  the  honor  you 
vhile  I  must  decline 
ve  him. 

y,  once  more  detaiu- 
do  love  you;  just 
w !  Pi-ay  do.  Per- 
e  Colonel  Arendell's 
■  his  tirst  wife  ;  the 
)u  !" 


Aldeane  could  not  restrain  a  smile,  and   thouo-Ji   it 

iapklly :i!.  '"'  '"  l'™^'^"''  ^'"^^  '"'  '''^^'"^-^"^ 

"  Besi.los,  Miss  Aldeane,  just  think,  I  hold  as  good  a  po- 
.t  on  „,  Hocety  as  the  Arendells  themselves,  and  I  ass  u^ 
you  I  am  nnicii  wealthier." 

"I  am  really  anxious  to  return  to  the  liouse,"  said  Al- 
kityoi;.'"  "^  *''  "'^  ''''''  po«sible-by  allowh.g  L  to 
"That  you  may  consider  what  I  liave  said,"  he  ex- 
claimed, eagerly.      "  Really,  Miss  Aldeane,  in    usticeto 
both  ot  us,  you  should  do  that."  "^ 

;' I  have  given  tiK,  subject  all  the  consideration  it  re- 
;!;nLyyo:""^'''"^^'"'^'^-  -I— tandlwm 
He  seemed  then,  for  the  first  time,  to  be  more  an-^rv 
tlurn  gneved  "  You  are  very  proud,  and  very  deS 
n."od  '  he  saal.  "  I  have  known  those'of  your  b L  b  . 
'-V  w  .0  were  so  but  if  all  was  known,  you  miH.t  find 
yourselt  with  httle  cause  to  despise  an  alliance  wUh  me  "  > 

bhe  saw  the  word  liar,  written  upon  his  very  ikce  an",l 
It  suddenly  flashed  upon  her  that  if  she  knew  aU  so 
might  find  abundant  cause  to  despise  him.  "  {^l.,t ''  1 
exclaimed  with  a  reeolloetion  of  Colonel  Ar'ende  I's 
vords,  «  did  you,  too,  know  my  family  ?  ()h  wln#  tL 
mj.te.y  concerning  them;  iLow  [hereis;!  W 
IS  It?     Pray,  what  is  it ?" 

"List      to  me,"  he  replied,  drawing  a  step  near  her 
I  will  tell  you,  if  you  will  become  my  wife  " 
•|  My  curiosity  is  not  so  great,"  she  answered. 

think  of  .!rt.^'"'^'i^\.r"!'^  ^'  *"  y«"'  ^^'"'^  ^'^1^'^"'^; 
t  unk  of  all  the  wonderful  tales  you  have  read  of  the  dis- 

closnres  of  seore(s,  and  tiien  ima^-ine  what  the  benefit  will 

be,  and  then  you  will  fall  sliorf  of  t!ie  rojility  " 


84 


ALDEANE. 


~T 


Aldeane  looked  at  him  with  Avidcly  dist'-udcd  oyes. 
«I  do  not  exaggerate,"  he  continued.    '•  I  can  tell  you 
what  you  would  give  worlds  to  know."     He  paused  and 

looked  at  her.  ^ 

"  You  shall  say  no  more  to  me,"  she  presently  said.  i 
am  happy  and  contented  in  my  ignorance." 

"  But  you  can  no  longer  be  iu  ignorance  that  a  great 
benefit  is  within  your  reach,  if  you  believe  my  word  to 
be  that  of  an  lionorablc  man." 

Ho  knew  that  it  was  likely  she  had  heard  that  ques- 
tioned, yet  he   was  mad   enougii  in  his  earnestness  to 

Bpeak  of  it. 

"  I  will  question  Colonel  Arendell,"  she  thought.     "  I 
there  is  a  benefit  within  my  reach,  he  will  tell  me  so.     I 
know  in  my  case,  Arthur  would  not  have  me  sacrifice 
myself  to  this  designing  man  ;■'  and  so  once  more  she 
gave  him  to  understand  that  his  s.iit  was  hopeless. 

« I  shall  take  further  opportunity  of  assuring  myself 
of  that,"  he  said  with  .i  minister  smile,  as  he  heard  the 
boys  crashing  through  the  underbrush,  "  and  again,  Miss 
Guthrie,  I   should  advise  you  to  consider    tiie   subject 

well." 

He  bowed,  and  disappca it d.  The  boys  coming  up 
wth  their  arms  full  of  wild  jasmine,  were  surprised  to 
find  that  their  governess  took  but  little  heed  of  it,  but 
h^-ni^d  them  home,  exclaiming  that  she  was  tired,  and 
("Witirming  her  words,  upon  her  arrival  at  the  house,  by 
h.v.V  ning  to  her  room,  and  rt>maining  there  for  hours. 

Strangely  enough,  amid  all  the  excitement  and  passion 
in  which  she  entered  the 'room,  and  without  owning  to 
herself  the  slightest  reason  for  the  act,  she  took  from  its 
resting-place  the  ivory  case  Belle  had  dropped  upon  her 
lap  one  memorable  summer  eve ;  she  looked  long  and 
thoughtfully  upon  the  portrait  't  contained. 

"What  a  frank,  honest  face,"  she  mused,  "how  kind 
he  used  to  be ;  I  wonder  if  he  would  be  now,  or  if  even 


he, 

ins 
bee 
lac( 

!«; 

beli 
deci 
T 
had 
cam 

•non 

wou 

less 

jure 

been 

to  h( 

them 

mind 

All 

tlian, 

pecte 

tioniu 

to  roi 

left  b; 

An( 

Avlien 

endca 

thougl 

she  ht 

relief, 

missed 

eutirel 


1  dist'Muled  eyes, 
od.    '•  I  can  tell  you 
tr."     lie  paused  and 

L'  presently  said.    "  I 

ranee." 

lorancc  that  a  great 

believe  my  word  to 

had  heard  that  ques- 
n  his  earnestness  to 

,"  she  thought.  "T 
le  will  tell  me  so.  I 
:>t  have  me  sacrifice 
d  so  once  more  she 
;  was  hopeless. 
'  of  assuring  myself 
liU',  as  he  heard  the 
ish,  "  and  again,  Miss 
onsider    the   subject 

Oie  boys  ccttning  up 
ne,  were  surprised  to 
little  heed  of  it,  but 
it  she  was  tired,  and 
rival  at  the  house,  by 
12  there  for  hours, 
ccitement  and  passion 
id  without  owning  to 
act,  she  took  from  its 
ad  dropped  upon  her 
she  looked  long  and 
(utained. 

e  mused,  "how  kind 
Id  be  now,  or  if  even 


A  LDEANE. 


85 


ho,  in  my  position,  would  find  some  cause  or  excuse  for 
msult^  "  and  then,  passionately  oxelaimin.  that  s  fht 
Wen  that  day  n.„,t.d,  she  clasped  her  hands  ovt  h e r 
lace,  and  burst  into  tears  "vumi 

heltr%Tnriihk"rf  I^^7-f  ^''^' ^"^'  *^^^"  ^  «"^-i-^ 

txlici  that  lilake  had  sought  deliberately  to  ensnare  an.l 
deeeive  her,  seized  upon  her  mind 

The  longer  she  thought  of  this,  and  the  opinion  sho 
had  formed  of  her  unwelcome  admirer,  the  mo  "she    e 
came  convinced  of  this.  ^' 

"He  must  think  me  the  weakest  of  all  Aveak-minde.l 
^omen,"  she  .aid  more  than  once,  "to  suZse  "  ft  I 
would  niarry  him,  even  for  the  wealth  of  the  Ind  es  m  el 

u^d'up^-^^d  ^^^'  ^^^  -y^tery  he  ^^ 
jured  up,    and  then  remmdmg  herself  that  if  there  hid 
been  any  secret  existing  that  could  be  of  possible  benefit 
to  herself  and  Arthur,  her  mother  wouldlux>  inform" 
tl^mof  u,she  endeavored  to  dismiss  the  subject  wtr 

And  this  she  succeeded  in  doing  to  a  far  greater  decree 
tha.1,  in  any  weak-minded  woman,  eould  have  been'ov 
pocted,  after  she  had  written  to  Arthur,  and  wi  ho  i   m  n" 
-.ung  her  reasons,  urged  him  to  prompt  Cha  les  Eva  s" 

riwH      ^-^^1-«.*«  d--er  the  paper  that  hLfb: 
left  by  their  mother  in  his  father's  chai4 

And  so  she  said  nothing  to  Colonel  Arendell-   and 
when  Arthur's  reply  to  her  letter  arrived,  saying  that  ^ 
endeavors  to  discover  the  paper  had  b^en^n'va  n, Vh, 
though  ,  with  some  amusement,  of  tiie  secret  with  wh  ch 

iief  1 1\:  zr;  t-"^^*^^^  '"^  -^-^  tinnkinL^w;;: 

uuct,  that  31i.  Blake  had  not  again  adverted  to  it  dis 
missed  the  matter  from  lier  miiid,  and  devoted  h^l-sef 
entirely  to  her  somewhat  harassing  duties. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

AX   UNEXPECTED   ARRIVAL. 

The  heat  was  intense.  Man,  beast,  and  herb  seemed 
fainting  beneath  its  ferveney.  The  sun  poured  Ins  fiercest 
rays  down  throu«;ch  tiie  mimosas,  oalvS,  and  cedars  wliuli 
surrounded  Arendell  House,  peered  boldly  into  the  dark- 
ened rooms,  and  filled  with  blinding  light  the  wide  pia/.- 
/.!is.  It  was,  indeed,  one  of  the  most  oppressive  days  of 
what  had  been  an  uinisually  warm  season.  The  inmates 
of  the  liouse,  both  white  and  black,  had  retired  to  the 
coolest  parts  of  the  house  or  grounds,  and  performed  their 
duties  wearily  and  unwillingly. 

In  the  parlor  were  Ahkane  and  Leonore,  vainly  en- 
d^  voring  to  concentrate  their  wandering  attention  upon 
a  new  and  diilicult  piece  of  nnisic.  Leonore  sat  at  the 
piano,  playing  discordantly  and  looking  very  discontent- 
ed, and  wondering  greatly  why  her  mother  had  insisted 
upon  her  taking  a  lesson  upon  that  particular  morning, 
when  it  would  have  been  so  easy  to  have  postponed  it  to 
another  day.  Breaking  the  rule  for  once  could  do  no  harm. 
Aldeaue  inwardlv  thought  the  same,  as  she  corrected  her 
pupil's  fre<iuent  mistakes,  and  emphatically  played  oyer 
the  difficult  parts  which  Leonore  insisted  upon  playing 
wrong.     A  cloud  rested  upon  the  faces  of  both. 

«  My  dear  Miss  Aldeaue,  do  let  me  rest  a  little  Avhile," 
exclaimed  Leonore,  at  length.  "  I  declare,  this  dreadful 
lesson  makes  me  faint  even  to  look  at  it.  As  tor  you,  I 
should  think  you  would  die,  with  that  black  dress  on,  thiu 
as  it  is.     Do  vou  know,  when  grandpapa  died,  about  two 


yea 
gre; 

and 

(( 

Rwei 
robt 

SOHK 

norc 

anxii 

"'J 

Leon 

Al 

hesto 

if  vol 

Wi 

and  c 

ii'om 

windc 

usual 

Fred ! 

Uef 

Leono 

}ier  ha 

ward  1 

"f  dus 

'uiggy 

tJie  gri 

Yes, 

the  tw 

•  lark  w 

and  Av 

\\atche 

In  a 

and  wit 

why,  bl 


:i. 


IIVAL. 


,8t,  and  herb  seemed 
un  poured  Ins  fiercest 
ks,  and  cedars  which 
boUlly  into  the  dark- 
light  the  wide  piaz- 
st  oppressive  (Lays  oi" 
season.  The  inmates 
k,  had  retired  to  the 
},  and  performed  their 

1  Leonore,  vainly  en- 
lering  attention  upon 
Leonore  sat  at  the 
(khig  very  discontent- 
•  mother  had  insisted 
t  particular  morning, 
I  have  postponed  it  to 
)nce  could  do  no  harm. 
e,  as  slie  coi'rected  her 
)hatically  played  over 
insisted  upon  playing 
aces  of  both, 
ne  rest  a  little  Avhile," 
;  declare,  this  dreadful 
at  it.     As  for  you,  1 
Kit  black  dress  on,  thin 
dpapa  died,  about  two 


ALDEANE. 


87 


yearsago— Ihadnever  seen  ffrinflm.vi  ,.^    i 
«^-st  trouble  was  l.tm^r:^l2.^1^^^^^^^^ 
an.I  insist  uj.on  my  doing  so  also.     1  detest  black  "        "' 
1  pray  y<.u  may  never  be  call..!  nj.on  to  wear"it  "  .n 

wei^d  Aldcane,  with  a  sigh,  glancing  at  the  lit  c  ihi^" 
robed  lorm  beside  Jicr,  and,  as  she  was  ubou  o  un  . 
«ome  penitent  excuse  for  spcakin-.  upon  so  ,,"    f.  ^  "  'u' 

,oct,ad.lingeneonragi„g,y:^^On.;hJi;:„Li::t.:w 
n    :>utr?"''*-V--""-^-    Youknowyourmaminais^ 

"The  onl    r,"  '"•?"  V^""'  >•""••  »''"-'t  <or  '""Sic." 
Ihe  only  talent  that  I  have,  unfortunately,"  remarked 
Leonore,  parenthetically.  ^'    ••^maiKea 

Aldeane  laughed  cheerfullv      "  \V<01 1  +1, 

;-.o.  „u  .he  ,„„,.o  ,„.i,.,  „;i-, ,.  r  •  *ro  ^:''„r 

II  you  please."  "  ''«■*»"» 

Witli  a  weary  sigh,  Leonore  turned  on  the  piano  stool 

ttr^t^^r^  ""''^'"^'''^ ''-''  «•-«  ofien'wTi::iri' 

lion  the  page  of  music  to  the  scene  beyond  tJie  o,„n 
.^ow.  .Suddenly  Aldeane  was  startled  by  t  e  " 
usual^exclamation,"  Good  Heavens!    Uncle  Fr^  -  Un^lo 

^  liefore  slie  could  ask  the  meaning  of  these  interjection. 
j.eono.-e,  overturning  the  piano-stool  and  an  ottCn  i  i' 

aid  the  window  for  a  solution  of  the  mvstery.    A  cloud 

"  clust  was  slowly  subsiding  in  the  ro^d ;  a^iorse  a  d 

'..,.,?y  were  standing  before  the  gate,  and  hurrying     p 

tJie  gravel  walk  was  Frederic  Mor-^an  ^ 

Yes,  though  he  was  darker  and^uich  changed  durin.. 

.k  wh^kers  and  heavy  mustache,  she  recognized  hin';; 
d  with    feelings    she    could  not   herself  comprehend 
^^ atched  his  approach.  '   ^"^"<., 

•m^witHr"'  '''•  '^'"'^  ^'""  ^^•^^'»™'  ^"  t'^*^  om  tones 
and  with  the  same  joyous  laugh  as  of  yore,  "Ah  Leonore - 

why,  bless  me,  how  you  have  grown;  andso  jt  ""w 


88 


ALDEANE. 


your  old  uncle  at  a  plance  !  AN'hcre  is  your  mother  ?" 
Tlipn  followed  the  sound  of  embraeinc;,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment his  quiek  step  was  heard  upon  the  pia/za. 

"  Why  Fred  ^Morgan  !  where  did  you  come  from  ?"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Arendell,  as  she  appeared  at  the  door  of 
the  sitting-room.  "  Dear  me,  how  delighted  I  am  to  see 
you,  and  how  you  have  changed !" 

"Where  have  I  come  fromV"  answered  lier  bro:lier, 
returning  her  cordial  embrace.  "  Why,  just  from  P2ng- 
land,  to  be  sure.  I  went  home,  and  found  e  erybody 
away,  gone  to  the  White  Mountains  again,  I  >elieve. 
So  as  nobody  expected  me  home,  I  thought  they  ne.>dn't 
know  of  my  being  in  the  country.  So,  instead  of  writn  ;c 
to  them  to  come  home,  I  embraced  the  only  chance  I 
could  hope  to  get  for  some  time,  and  ran  down  to  see 
you." 

"  Well,  I  am  delighted  to  see  you ;  and  how  long  arc 
you  going  to  stay?"  inquired  Mrs.  Arendell,  anxiously. 

"  Now,  that's  a  pretty  question  to  ask  a  man,  the  min- 
xite  he  gets  into  the  house,"  returned  Mr.  Morgan  laugh- 
ing ;  "  but  to  satisfy  you,  I'll  tell  you.  Two  or  three  weeks 
at  the  longest.  I  must  really  begin  to  jjractice  this  fall ; 
I've  been  studying  famously  while  in  Europe,  attended 
lectures  and  walked  hospitals  enough  to  make  me  a  first- 
rate  physician,  though  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  be.  But 
here  are  Frank  .and  Eddy !  How  do  you  do,  sirs  ?  Don't 
you  know  your  Uncle  Fred  ?  And  there  is  little  Jessie. 
She's  as  pretty  as  a  rose-bud ;  and  so  like  sister  Jessie  was 

Ida !" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Arendell,  with  a  sigli ;  "  but  how 
are  ma  and  Annie,  pretty  well  ?" 

"  I  haven't  seen  them,  you  know,  but  I  believe  mother 
is  well ;  Annie  is  a  weakly  little  thing,  it  is  for  the  sake 
of  her  health  that  they  have  gone  to  the  mountains  this 
summer,  I  think.     But,  Ida,  where  is  Arendell  ?" 

"  Out  in  the  fields,  somewhere.     Here  Jule,  go  look  for 


as  Aldi 
"Let  n: 
differen 
gan." 

Mr.  J! 

nouncec 

elaiuiini 

I  am  ve 

like  all  1 

I  did  no 

to  greet 

Aldea 

had  foun 

hand  tlia 

"You  mi 

nizing  yo 


'% 


re  is  your  mother?" 
iiic;,  and  the  next  mo- 
1  the  piazza, 
you  conae  from  ?"  ex- 
cared  at  the  door  of 
delighted  I  am  to  see 

[iswcred  her  bro'lier, 
Why,  just  from  Eiio;- 
md  found  e  erybody 
ains  again,  I  >elieve. 
thought  they  iR->du't 
So,  instead  of  writn;c 
ed  the  only  chance  I 
and  ran  down  to  see 

u ;  and  how  long  are 
Arendell,  anxiously. 

0  ask  a  man,  the  min- 
h\  Mr.  Morgan  laugli- 
.    Two  or  three  weeks 

to  ])ractice  this  fall ; 
;  in  Europe,  attended 
;h  to  make  me  a  first- 
pose  I  shall  be.  But 
3  you  do,  sirs  ?    Don't 

1  there  is  little  Jessie. 
3  like  sister  Jessie  was 

ith  a  sigli ;  "  but  how 

,  but  I  believe  mother 
ling,  it  is  for  the  sake 
to  the  mountains  this 
is  Arendell?" 
Here  Jule,  go  look  for 


ALDEA  yR. 


89 


,^<«ii.  ^vii   thou  lovest  mo '  Inf  w.„  i 

F  'VA.  ui  tstape,  but  found  upon  trial  thit  tl.,.  a  . 
oneninc  infn  tlw.  i..,ii  ,        t     ,     ,  "''  ^"^  floor 

Bide.      She    td   W    7  7]   ?  '"  ^"'"^^  *'''  "P""  t'"^t 

"  Al, !  Mi»,  r.„tl,rk.,  „rc  ,„„  here  r  .aid  Mr,.  Awndd] 

.n»..gyo„  at  o„c»;  ,„„  are  .oc„a„go,,-:;;£;.- '::.':S 


90 


ALDEANE. 


-"  ghiiiciii<j;  at  her  l»lack 


lionny    brown    curls,   iiml- 
dn'.-^s. 

"  My  mother  w  (h'lu!,"  ^lio  r(|ili»'<l,  sadly. 

"Ah,"  ii""l  li''^  *'y^'  truvcrwi'd  rajudly  over  her  I'aci-  and 
lijjiiri'.  _  , 

"  Why,  you  soem  to  \w  qtiUf  old  friends  !"  intorruptctl 
]Mrs.  Arendill,  in  astonishment. 

"Certainly  we  are,"  replied  .Mr.  Morgan.  "  I've'  known 
J\Iiss  (Jiithrie  those  six  years." 

"  Wliy  AMeane,  how  is  it  you  have  never  mentif>n«'d 
liimV"  inquired  Mrs.  Arendell. 

"I  had  not  the  least  idea  that  Mr.  :\lor,«?an  was  your 
1)rothor,  and  therefore,  hud  no  reason  for  doing  ho,"  re- 
turned Aldeano. 

"  lie  is  my  step-brother,"  replii'd  :MrH.  Arendell.  "  I  am 
jilad  you  know  eaeh  other  so  well.  Aldeaue,  I  belii've, 
lias  been  a  little  honu'siek  of  lato;  it  will  do  her  good  to 
talk  of  old  times,  r.nd  mutual  friends." 

"  Well,  really,  this  is  a  surprise  !"  exclaimed  a  voice  at 
the  door,  and  in  a  moment  more  Colonel  Arendell  was 
Hhakins  the  hand  of  his  brother-in-law  Avarmly.  "  Why, 
Fred !  how  are  you  ?  You're  the  very  last  person  I 
should  have  expected  to  see  ;  but  none  the  lesa  welcome 
for  that !     How  lont;  have  you  been  here?" 

"About  half  an  hour." 

"  A  half  hour !  and  I  sui)pose  Ida  and  Leonore  have 
kept  you  talking  ever  since.  I  wonder  they  ever  thought 
to  send  for  me  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  fhould  have  done  so,  had  not, 
Fred  inquired  for  you,"  said  Mrs.  Arendell,  laughing. 
"But  Fred,  I  suppose  you  would  like  to  rest  a  littl;- 
before  lunch,  which  will  i)e  ready  in  an  hour.  Here  Julc, 
take  Mr.  Morgan  to  his  old  room ;  and  Pete,  take  back 
the  hoi-sc  and  buggy  to  Loring,  and  tell  Aunt  lloxy  to 
come." 

"  I  wonder,"  thought  Aldeane,  as  :Mr.  Morgan  Icil  the 


uifiiig  at  her  l»latk 

1,  sa.lly. 

illy  over  hiT  face  ami 

tVieials  !"  iutomiptttl 

[organ.    "  I've  Uiiowii 

avo  ncvor  meutioiuil 

Mr.  ^l()r,>?an  wan  yoiir 
M)i»  lor  doing  ho,"  rv- 

]MrH.  Arcndoll.  "lam 
.  Altloanc,  I  hclii'vo, 
it  will  do  her  gooil  to 
Is." 

'  exclaimed  a  voiei'  at 
Colonel  Arendell  was 
law  M-armly.  "Why, 
le  very  last  person  I 
none  the  less  welcome 
n  here  ?" 

la  and  Leonore  have 
ider  they  ever  thonght 

lave  done  so,  had  not, 
s.  Arendell,  laughiiitr. 
1  like  to  rest  a  littl;- 
1  an  hour.  HereJule, 
;  and  Pete,  take  back 
,nd  tell  Aunt  lloxy  to 

IS  Mr.  Morgan  left  the 


A  LDEANE. 


91 


■""  ",         I    r..ally  ^u,^uU^r  what    h,.   thinks   of  n,e   or  nf 

::;;;i,:;:;:^"'';\»';'r''''''-^'""'!r»::;i:':::r 

'"nest  poverty  is  never  a  dist^nice      I{ift..r  f..  I  . 

■•-    wc-ak,  p.u.nle   ,L.dings,  she  hastilv  h-r     I      ,      «  ' 

Mr.  Morgan,  as  he  stood  heforo  the  glass  in  his  dress 
ug-roon,,  thought,  "What  can  Ahleanf  (..thrie   .'^ 
.        tan  ,t  he  that  she  is  the  governess  Ida  wrof  to  no 
ahout  i    She  may  be;    he  has  lost  her  n.othor,  and  tit 

^o;;i:^^:S"''^"r'''"*'-''"^''''^'-- 

1  >von(ic'i  wiiat  Arthur  IS  doni"      T  u-i^li  I  i...  i  *i         ■ 

j-'Yi-tGrenville'swhenlwal^-I^^;:  '7C;:: 
1  '"ked  as  pron.l  as  Lucifer  to-d.ny.  I  p.-osume  she  tho  ;ht 
^^l.o  must  show  me,  that  she  eonsi-Lrs  her.-.elf  as  loo  ft 
;-r,  but  she  doesn't,  or  she  woul.l   not  ta  o  s  cf  ten 

lost   yot.     I  must  consider  the  best  wav  to  brin<r  l.l 
•■"•oun.I.     How  foolish  she  is      I  ronllv    1         ^.T  " 
sensible."  ^  thought  her  more 

some  water." '  '""'  "'  '"  "^"'^''^'^"^'  '^"^^  ^'^--^  -ith 
"  Well,  Jnlius  Ca^sar!"  exclaimed  .Mr.  .Mor.ran   «  how 
re  you,  and  all  the  other  braves,  and  wanC  kin" 
and  heroes,  getting  along  ?"  '        =  ' 

H  ell,  u  s  cheering  to  hear  that.     I  supp,>se  some  of 


I 


02 


ALDEANE. 


you  have  hcon  sold  'down  South,'  bIiicc  I  was  here  hist, 

'Phi'  hoy  looked  at  him,  with  a  morry  twinkh-  lu  hn 
PVcsaHho  ni-lh-d:    "No,Kah,  Miss   My  Nvouhln't    low 
dal   an'  :MisH  Ahloauc,  I  trll  you,  w<.uhl  ^o  hkhj  it  too.^^ 
"'Slu-  would,  I'h  ?    1  low  lohfr  has  Hhu  bmi  hero,  Juh;  i 
"  A  year  dis  hery  mouth,  Huh." 
"  Ah  !  and  is  she  visiting  horo.  ' 

«  No  Mass'r  Fi-fdcrii',  whe  am  de  fjohorupss,  and  is 
mi,d.ty'i,oart,  1  kiu  tell  ye,  aud  Mass'r  IMake  thinks  so 
too'  She  toM  him  sonu>thin'  the  ot'.Pr  day  tliat  sent  hun. 
away  in  a  jitVy,  and  he  hasn't  been  ui,!,d,  dis  plantation 
sence."  And  J  ule  <,'rinned  deli^httuHy,  a.hlin-,  "  he  mi-ht 
a-knowe.l,  that  Miss  Aldeane  wouluu't  ehen  look  at  any 
ole  niiij^er  driver."  .,,,,,  i       i 

»  You  had  better  not  speak  so,"  naid  ^Ir.  Alorgan  laugh- 
in-r  •  "  he  may  have  you  some  day,  i>erhai)s." 

"No,  sah,  he  won't.  Mass'r  John  don't  sell  his  mggcrs. 
]Miss  Id'v  wouldn't  let  him  do  that  no  how." 

"And  you  say,  y.)U  like  Miss  Guthrie,"  said  Jrederie. 
«'  I  suppose  she  spoils  you  all.  And  do  Colonel  Arendell, 
and  ]Miss  Ida,  like  her  as  well  ?"  .      ,  ,       , 

"  I  guess  they  does,  sah,  and  Miss  Nora  jes  lobes  her 
dearly'!     Dere's  tlie  bell,  sah  !" 

»  Poor  Alie !"  thought  Mr.  Morgan,  as  he  prepared  to 
answer  the  summons.  "  I  know  this  life  is  distasteful  it 
not  positively  hateful  to  her.  How  dilVerent  slie  looks 
now,  to  what  she  did  when  I  parted  from  lier  m  boston. 
She  was  really  quite  pretty  then,  though  like  me,  she  has 
no  particular  beauty  to  boast  ot,  especially  now  that  those 
.dossy  brown  curls  are  tucked  up.  I  never  could  see  any 
reason  why  girls  always  try  to  make  themselves  as  plain 
as  a  nun  when  they  become  teachers,  yet  they  almost 
invariably  do.  AVell !  although  they  arc  kmd  to  her 
,  here,  yet  I  know  that  she  thinks  like  I  do,  that  teaching 
'  is  a  hard  business.     I  don't  like  it !" 


Hinoe  1  was  here  last, 

miTvy  twinkle  in  hin 
iss  My  wouldn't  'low 
A-ould  ffo  iif^in  it  too." 
Hhebit'U  hero,  JuloV" 


I 


do  fjoltornoss,  and  is 
lass'r  Hiiiki'  tliinkH  so 
)th<i-duytliiit  siMit  him 
>ti  nJjili  diw  plantation 
(i\y,addin<!;,  "lii'mitilit 
Iclu't  tben  look  at  any 

saidMr.  Morp;anlangli- 

,  perhaps." 

II  don't  well  his  niggers. 

;  no  how." 

uthrie,"  said  Frederic. 

lid  do  Colonel  Arcndell, 

[iss  Nora  jes  lobes  her 

rtian,  as  lie  prepared  to 
this  life  is  distasteful  if 
[ow  dill'erent  she  looks 
ted  from  her  in  lloston. 
though  like  nie,  she  has 
specially  now  that  those 
.  I  never  could  see  any 
lake  themselves  as  plain 
vehers,  yet  they  almost 
they  arc  kind  to  htr 
like  I  do,  that  teaching 
it!" 


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Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductlons  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductlons  historiques 


' 


A  LDEANE. 


93 


Miss  Guthrio  dkl  not  appear  at  lunch  that  day.  "A 
had  headache,"  Zettie  said,  keeping  licr  in  her  own 
ajtartmont. 

"  I  thought  slie  looked  pale  this  morning,  when  wo 
were  in  the  parlor  witli  Uncle  Fred,"  remarked  Leonore. 
"  I  knew  she  would  be  sick  after  giving  me  a  lesson  this 
warm^  morning;  and  I  should  have  been  sick  too,  had  not 
uncle's  providential  arrival  interrupted  the  l.sson.  I 
wish  some  one  would  come  at  every  such  time." 

"  Leonore,  you  are  dreadfully  lazy  !"  said  Mrs.  Arcn- 
dell   laughing. 

While  3[r.  Morgan  thought,  "Ah !  a  headache,  I  don't 
remember  of  ever  having  heard  her  complain  of  it  before. 
But  01  course  it  is  this  confounded  teaching,"  then,  turn- 
ing to  Mrs.  Arendell,  he  inquired  : — 

"Is  Miss  Guthrie  a  good  music-teacher?  She  used  to 
sing  and  play  well." 

"  She  is  the  best  teacher  Leonora"  has  ever  had  ;  aoubt- 
less  she  performs  as  well,  if  not  better,  than  she  did 
when  you  parted.  I  presume  you  will  soon  have  an 
opportunity  of  judging  for  yourself.  But  I  am  afraid 
atler  being  in  Europe  so  long,  you  will  have  no  taste  for 
our  home  melodies." 

"Indeed!"  he  returned,  "that  remains  to  be  proved, 
if  Miss  Guthrie  sings  half  as  well  as  she  used  to,  I  think 
you  will  find  yourself  mistaken.  My  traveling  compan- 
ion, Raymond,  used  to  be  wild  about  her  voice.  I  must 
write  to  him  that  she  is  liere,  and,  with  your  permission, 
Ida,  ask  him  to  come  here,  and  listen  to  it  once  more." 

"I  wish  you  would,"  said  Mrs,  Arendell,  "I  know  you 
were  jesting,  Fred,  but,  I  am  quite  anxious  to  see  this 
paragon  of  whom  you  have  so  often  written.  I  declare  !" 
she  added  suddenly,  "in  future  I  shall  be  acre  communi- 
cative about  my  family.  If  I  had  been  in  the  past,  I 
should  have  known  long  ago  that  you  and  Aldeane  we're 
acquainted." 


94 


ALDEANE. 


"And  it  appears  tliat  IVIiss  Guthrie  is  equally  reliceut 
concerninc?  hcT  iViends,"  remarked  her  brother,  with  a 
curious  smile.  "  Hut  it  is  a  wonder  tliat  mamma  nevor 
mentioned  her  knowledge  of  your  governess.  :\Iiss  Ash- 
ton  has  of  course  mentioned  to  her  the  names  of  her 
friend's  employers." 

"Well,  I  am  afraid,"  said  Mrs.  Arendell,  colormg, 
"  that  mamma  was  a  little  piqued  that  I  did  not  ask  her 
to  choose  me  a  governess,  but  really,  "Miss  Osmond  was 
so  unsatisfactory,  that  I  thought  it  best  to  trust  entirely 
to  Professor  Grenville,  and  say  nothing  to  mamma  about 

it." 

"  Or  it  may  be  possible,"  suggested  Colonel  Arendell, 
archly,  "  that  mamma  may  not  have  cared  to  claim  ac- 
quaintance with  our  governess.     This  is  a  queer  world, 

you  know  !" 

Mr.  IMorgan  laughed.  Mrs.  Arendell  glanced  at  her 
husband  indignantly,  but,  knowing  his  supposition  was 
highly  probable,  said  nothing. 

"  Oh,  no  !"  cried  Leonore,  "  that's  always  your  way, 
papa,  to  try  to  tind  a  dark  side  to  the  picture.  Our 
world  is  a  very  good  world,  is  it  not.  Uncle  Fred  ?" 

"  It  suits  me  very  well,"  he  returned  gayly.  "  I've  had 
but  little  trouble  in  it.  Perhaps  it  is  coming  though,  for 
you  and  me  both,  Lcpnora." 

"God  forbid!"  said  the  colonel,  as  they  arose  from 
the  table. 

Aldeane  appeared  at  tea,  apparently  as  well  as  usual. 
A  slight  hauteur  characterized  her  deportment  toward 
jNIr.  Morgan ;  a  fact  which  he  failed  not  to  notice,  and, 
with  a  feeling  of  amusement  and  pity,  to  attribute  to  its 
proper  source.  The  night  was  dark,  so  they  left  the 
piazza  earlier  than  usual,  and  repaired  to  the  parlor.  ]Mr. 
:\[organ  soon  took  his  seat  at  the  piano,  and  commenced 
playing  light  airs,  at  the  same  time  talking  to  Mrs. 
Arendell   and   the   children,  who  diad  gathered  around 


Mm. 
A  Idea 

It  A\ 

qr.ii-ed 

spoker 

She  wi 

he  also 

and  ta 

sang  tl 

"'Ve 

approv 

rememl 

It  fla 

inipress 

and  the 

upon  Jic 

that  the 

selves,  1 

his. 

Slie  ^v 
tliink  sh 
that  she 
Arendell 

A  fe. 
of  her  o\ 
clinched 
voice,  sh( 
torment  i 
Oh  !  liow 
ho  would 
pany !  E 
ess,  but  J 
I  hate  h..i 


■AZD  EJ  NE. 


95 


s  equally  rt'licont 
1-  brother,  -with  .'i 
lat  niumma  never 
•rnesH.  ]\Iiss  Asli- 
:he  names  of  her 

Lrendell,  colorincr, 
,  I  did  not  ask  her 
^liss  Osmond  was 
;t  to  trust  entirely 
;  to  mamma  about 

Colonel  Arendell, 

sared  to  claim  ac- 

is  a  queer  world, 

ell  glanced  at  her 
is  supposition  was 

always  your  way, 
the  picture.     Our 
JneleFred?" 
gayly.     "  I've  had 
:;oniing  though,  for 

,s  they  arose  from 

y  as  well  as  usual, 
ieportmcnt  toward 
not  to  notice,  and, 
r,  to  attribute  to  its 
c,  so  they  left  the 
.  to  the  parlor,  ilr. 
no,  and  commenced 
le  talking  to  Mrs. 
d  gathered  around 


a-=i-cl  a  powenC,  elL^^    t: ^^ij^''^,^^  '^  - 
si.oken  to  her  before  and  \Z%  ^'"'  ''"""^''^'v^ 

ShoMished  to  refell  ."''""  ^"^''^  Peremptory. 

I'- also  did,  that      eiAs  a  1        ?""•"''  ""'  ^'"'  ^"''I^^-^ 

-^1  taking , he  ^:rci;::t^^ 

-;gthesong.ithnnusnalta;     '     a,::^^-^'^'-d 
"^^^«y  Js'ood!     Keally  very  eood  '      V    \r     ., 

u.member  Raymond,  Miss  Guthrie  ?"  ^  ^"'"-     ^  "" 

^'-t  ther;  xJ^t^^  "^^  --^o  of  saying 
H'lves,  thouo-h  he  Ind  t^,        ,  "^  ^'^^'''^•'"  them- 

his.  °  '"'"'^  '"'^^'"  ^''''  Port'-ait,  and  left  her 

that  she  rose  from  herl  t  C  ""'  ^  *'"*  ''">''«^»  '-^''^ 
Arendell,  and  abru^t^;  ^',^0":^^'  ^  -"^  -  Mrs. 

orCown:;:2J;n^^,:^f%P-ing  the  floor 

clinched  tigitly  tog^th:;  ^^^U  ttt:"'  "" '"^'^ 
voice,  she  exclaimed:  «6hr  Xdid  )  '  ^''^^r^"''*'" 
torment  me?     What  though'  T     ^  ""  ''"'"''  ^^"'•'-'  t" 

Oh-  how  he  spok  *to  i  ti'hr  OTV'  ""  '""'■^"•' 
'.0  would  have^  felt  honor^l  yes  hono''  TV''''  '"^''' 
Pany  I  But  now  I  am  onK-  Ar  '  r  ^"°*f''  ^y  my  eom- 
oss   but  I  IT7:  T  ^  ^^'■'-  '^''''"  Arendell's  govern- 

^",  ^vlij  did  lie  come  to  torment  me  1" 


CHAPTER   XII. 


A    WAR    OF   WOKDS. 

Alpean-k  was  perfectly  aware  that  the  frame  of  mind 
into  which  ^Ir.  I^Iortriin'H  arrival  had  thrown  her  was 
quite  uncalled  for;  -^n.l,  while  she  could  not  change  or 
overcome  it,  she  blamed  herself  for  it  as  much  as  a  most 
censorious  stranger  would  have  done. 

To  her  extreme  annoyance  and  self-contempt,  she  was 
fdlcd  with  a  feeling  she  had  never  known  before.  She 
had  a  harrowing  suspicion  that  people  "  looked  down " 
upon  her  because  of  her  position,  and  that  she  was  merely 
tolerated  and  patronized;  and  that,  at  least  from  jV^r. 
Morgan,  she  could  not  bear. 

Of  one  thing  she  was  quite  certaiiv—his  conduct  toward 
her  was  quite^different  to  what  it  used  to  be.     There  was 
none  of  the  freedom  and  affability  which  existed  in  the 
happy  days  at  Rose  Cottage.     Of  course,  she  never  for  a 
moment  suspected  anv  greater  change  in  her  conduct  than 
was  justified  by  that*  in  his,  and,  therefore,  meeting  his 
careless  pleasantries,  which  she  chose  to  consider  patron- 
izing impertinences,  with  most  frigid  politeness,  the  cool- 
ness^betwecn  them  each  day  became  greater,  and  led  Mrs. 
Arendell  to  suppose  the  frieiidship  between  them  had 
never  been  a  ^^rm  one,  and  to  attribute  her  mother's 
silence  regarding  Miss  Guthrie  to  a  far  more  charitable 
motive  than  that  which  had  been  imputed   to  her  by 
her  husband.     And  thus  a  slight  reserve  arose  between 
Aldeane  and  her  employer,  wliich  added  not  a  little  to  her 
discomfort. 


A  LDEANE. 


07 


the  frame  of  mind 
[  thrown  her  was 
lUl  not  change  or 
as  much  as  a  most 

■contempt,  she  was 
iiown  before.  She 
le  "  looked  down  " 
hat  she  was  merely 
at  least  from  Mr. 

his  conduct  toward 
L  to  be.     There  was 
:hich  existed  in  the 
rse,  she  never  for  a 
in  her  conduct  than 
?refore,  meeting  his 
to  consider  patron- 
politeness,  the  cool- 
freater,  and  led  Mrs. 
between  them  had 
ribute  her  mother's 
far  more  charitable 
imputed   to  her  by 
serve  arose  between 
ed  not  a  little  to  her 


One  af>erno()n  Coloiipl  Ar,.„    a,.„„i  n       ,  r 

0  ,t,  and  tak.ng  ,t  up,  glanced  over  it  in  search  of  a  noen 

the  ^oon.   When  she  was  start.ed\y!h:i:,t^^^^^^^^^^ 

di.l    wh       T  ^"'!,''"''  ''^"'^    ^  ''=^^'  ^  ''"'^Pieion  that  you 
did,  when  I  read  it  this  mornin^.     'AG'     Vol.)^ 

are  your  initials.     Come  own  thaTfl,n  r  '    ''"'" 

KU.     ,1 .       J        ^'Jtin.,  own  tliat  the  hnes  are  yours  " 
hlK  glanced  up,  startled  and  an-ry   and  hoLl,!  Ar 

Morgan  looking  a.  the  article  over  h'er'shi ':''''  '"• 

ners ''"h?s"i?;atl  "  "  n'"'^'  ''  ^P''^-^  J^-""  — 
ners     she  said,  tartly,  unable  to  repress  her  thou-rlits 

thifk s^t:.t  i?r'"''*""'^^-  "^  ^«"'*  --»-  you 

"Yes  sir ''  ^""^  "^"^^  *''''  P'""'"  ^'^*''''^  ""'  '^" 

writrnii'wr' '''"'  ^''^ '''  «^  *^*  °'-'^  '^'-  y-  ^o 

"  Occasionally." 

I  wish  to  r/t- *  """k'''   •""'  "^  ^'""^  ^"*«  production.? 
™  to  see  It  you  have  improved  much." 

ii.S::^'2i;s^''"^  ^^'"^  ^'^"^  ^'^^  ^--' 

.nil'^'^'r    ^^^^f^^^'i  surprised  and  half  angry  at  her 
curt  replies.     Aldeane  turned  to  leave  the  room      U 
stood  before  the  door.     She  looked  at  hL  scoSV  h 
.-d  soul  standing  forth  plainly  i„  her  expressive'  fiic" 
my  does  he  not  stand  back  and  lot  me  pass  •^"  ^lu 
.ought.     Her  anger  rose  high  as  he  fi.xecrhi    c    ,u  b    I 
eyes  upon  her  and  inquired :— 


98 


A  LnEAXK. 


«  Does  :Miss  Asliton  '  orrospoiul  witli  yon  ?" 
«Mv  tVieiHls  an-  not  all  imrsc-i.roiul  un.l  wortMoss . 
she  rctortea,  an-nly.    "  Yes,  «ir,  Miss  Ashton  docs  corre- 
spond witli  mc  '"  ,,.,.*  D» 
« I  supposed  so !    Has  she  returned  from  her  tour  yet? 

"  She  is  now  at  Rose  Cottage." 
'  Where  is  Arthur  now  ?" 

"  In  Boston."  .      .      „„   ,,        i  , 

«Can  nothing  make  her  communicative?  thought 
Frederic.  Then  to  Akleanc:  "What  is  he  doing  there  . 
Not  dragging  out  his  life  as  a  salenman  or  <lry-goo;is 
clerk,  I  hope?  His  handsome  face  would  be  a  great 
attraction  to  the  lo.dies." 

"  I  am  T^erfcctly  aware,  Mr.  Morgan,"  returned  Ahleane, 
with  dignity,  "that  you  feel  not  the  slightest  interest  m 
The  question  you  hav..  arked  ;  nevertheless,  I  will  aasAj^r 
it;  aller  which  I  hope  you  will  allow  me  to  leave  the 
room,  whicii,  you  can  perceive  I  have  desired  to  do  lox 
some  time.  My  brother  is  studying  law,  m  the  c  -hce  of 
John  Ilalcombe,  in  Boston.  Chester  Ilalcombe  and  he 
anticipate  taking  John's  practice  in  a  few  months-as 
soon  as  they  arc  ac'mitted  to  the  bar.' 

"Ah!   so  he  maybe  a  judge  after  all!   I  remember 
mss  Isabella  used  to  call  him  that  years  ago." 
"  Permit  me  to  pass,  if  you  please,  sir !" 
«I  prefer    not  to-takc   a  chair.     I   should   like   to 

converse  with  you." 

His  words  and  manner  irritated  her  greatly. 

"Mr.  Morgan,  I  do  not  wish  to  remain  here,  she 
replied,  "and  I  will  not.  Remember  that  if  I  a™  ^^ 
dependent  in  Mrs.  Arendell's  house,  I  am  not  subject  to 

vour  orders !"  .  .   „  ,         ^         i 

"I  see  you  still  retain  your  old  spirit,"  he  returned. 
"  But  really  I  do  not  wish  to  offend  you.  We  were  once 
good  friends.  Why  should  we  quarrel  now?  Lom\ 
shake  hands,  and  as  Frank  would  say  '  make  it  up. 


L 


n\i 


V" 


\nd  wortMoss !" 
Iiton  iloea  corie- 

[iher  tour  yet?" 


tivc?"  thouglit 
ho  doing  tluMT  'i 
in,  or  <lry-goo<lft 
mill  be  a  grffit- 

eturinjd  Aldeano, 
Thtcat  interest  in 
•ss,  I  will  answer 
me  to  leave  the 
desired  to  do  for 
r,  in  the  cTice  of 
liilcombe  and  he 
few  months — aa 

all!  I  remember 

s  ago." 

• !" 

I   should  like   to 

rrcatly. 

•emain  here,"  she 
r  that  if  I  am  a 
am  not  subject  to 

irit,"  he  returned, 
u.  We  were  once 
rel  now?  Com>, 
■  make  it  up.' " 


A  rnEANE. 


90 


^  _  Arcane  ™^^^^^^ 
;;  Al. !  y.),.  are  obdurate  !     Uo.v  have  I  oflended  ?" 

"r>-  "<■•- h.-i-i'-.ta,.  ?„:'',,"';'"";;" '■' 

""'■"'"•.»"  •  "PP™  »..rv,„,l,' „,   ,1,0V    •,,,1,     1        \ 

.i-H  n,..  mi,,,. ,     s,„.„.  „a,„,,,  S  ^t; i' "'"  '-  ""  ^°"' 
„■;./  ',r  '"""'"  '<■'"""■'' '^I'lranc  ir,ll,llv    "I 

y..,,r  p„.,o„oc  u  h,„rf„i  ,„  „„,   ,,„,  ^„  ;,_;,;«'■  ■«'■"..' 

oor  ,  ttle    lung,  .he  fancies  that  I  despise  her  for\ei„<; 
iran  offended  Im,.      «t      i-      i  .  ^       ^'  -''*'^'  Mor- 

I'owever  worth'''  ''   '^'''^'''   P*^^^''^.-  ""^    I'^^or, 

She  noticed,  with  gLdness.  his  kindne.s  to  the  slaves, 


-y 


f^ 


,^'^ 


V 


100 


ALDEAITE. 


th.M.-ht  burnt  deeply  into  her  l.-art,  "  He  ih  ki.'K*  '> 
r     an  10  nuslu'anse  he  thinks  there  ih  no  lear  .. 

n    i.  •  ty   iVun.   them.     He   i«   the   namo  as  of  ..M    to 
l.imui.iuiy    "  „     m„.  never  lor  a  niomciit 

others;  ehancroa  only  tome.       ^'^   "^^    '      ^, 
in,n.Mne<l  that    the  .-han-e  was  ,n   herself.     =;''./'". 
"    r   ahnost  re,rette.l  lu-r  seornful  rejee,u,n  ot  h.s  o      - 
U  of  friendship,  but  pride  forbade  her  to  n.ake  ay 
X-n.^H  toward    -onc-iliating  him.     A  strange  and  un- 
a   h      1      cdins    rule.l    her.      He   possessed   a  <-ertam 
o'    r  ove     her,  whieh,  uUhouph   even  to  herse It   she 
To    d  nc^-er  aeknowled.e  it,  he  had  al-y.  held^  but 
had  never  exereised  so  fully,  as  duru.-  those  days  ot 

'"ZcSwtSon,.     She  m  ,m,.h  mortiM  a,  th„  ...gl... 

Al,tale!i  1..  k-„,c.a  all  0..  r«.t  of  u,.     1  .tank  .t  wa, 
"t^rVl!:^'^  g-t  hurry,  my  .hildl"  .«.m,c^ 


Ml 

Coi 
".> 

it  A 

J 

tur 
JeHi 

ove 
how 
wisi 
eauj. 

tllOl 

lone 
A  ret 
it  W( 
ifFr 
first 
of  oil 

havii 

found 

"V 

"O 

Aldeii 

see  sic 

]iut  I 

for  m 

looked 

;^       "  01 

say  I  ] 

the  chi 

"  Jei 

Aunt 

^lars'r 

time  tc 

Don't  I 

Don't  j 


i«  in  kiinli'r  to 
;  is  no  four  of 
5  as  of  •'!''  '"' 
■  for  !v  inoinriit 
If,  SIr'  hoiiu'- 
ion  of  his  ovi-r- 
f  to  iniikc  luiy 
tningi'  iiiul  un- 
sso<l   ii  fiTtfiin 

to  hcrsi'lf  nhv 
way**  Ih'M,  but 

those  iVays  of 
■on  to  lu'V  whiit 
vorflowinfT  with 
ilso  a  nniviTsal 
n  them,  and  sho 
iirho.l  that,  even 
n  her  friend,  who 
is  friendship  hlio 
ade  no  etVort  V) 
ever.     Hi^  l»i'^'«- 

was  glad  wlien 
lonel  Arendell  to 

D,  she  stood  with 
iff,  Mr.  Morgan 
•,  and  the  family, 
and  then  hurried 
lonel's  loud  calls 
ied  at  this  slight, 

:  hands  with  Miss 
s.     1  think  it  was 

child !"  returned 


ALDEANE. 


101 


^I  ss  (.ul hr.e,  you  uu.st  not  min.l  this  ne-MeJ       lltl 
Jt  was  not  intentional  "  '".■,"^^1.     l  know 

••au-ht   herself   Jistei.in.,   r      V  ^'"■'' <>r  twiee  she 

'ii«l  timi.  sinco  l.i,  vi,i,  .l...7i.  '""  ''"^  '"■•  '!«> 

limo  to  talk  to  him  a,  ,n       .       '''•.     ^°"  """  li»'l  "o 


102 


ALDEANE. 


"  Oh  1  yen,  pretty  well !     1  wo.uler  why  Z.ttlo  doonn't 

''°"  Oh  •  l..'kaHo  <.h  .lo  olc  EIm.o  hl..oa  in  h.-r !     I  tell  yo 
vhut  r  link,  n,i.su,  it  a,u  n.y  ',inion  that  cWh  houk. 
nuu'hty  «no  folkK  at  do  North.     Now  you  j.-s  U.ok  at 
Tl  t    My,  Hlu.'s  as  «oo.l  aH  .1.  .lay  in  lo,,,,  a,.'  an  ,>ur  y 
„     ao  ,.uou  a  Hhl,.i,.'  in  .lo  hoi!..,,  oh  .lo  p.ny  woo.  s 
:  kl;  o'  Botl  an'  go.,tle  liko.     WoU  '•  ^^H  !  >-.;-' 
h:v'  H..on  hor  who,,  nm,s'r  hrou-^'ht  hor  homo.     Sho   sas 
!h  ahout  .lo  SU.IC  a^o  .lat  Mins  No,-y  am  now,  an  an 
i.olio.omo  an'  innocent  a«  a  hunh.     Who,,  she  s..,.  ns  : 
Bfm.liu'  hv  the  f,'ato  a-starin'  at  hor,  sho  hh.Hho.l  hko  ft 
^^  c-hilo,  an'  sai.l  f.  .nars',-:    M)h!  John,  do  oomo 
,way !'  bnt  ho  took  hc-r  han.l  an'  looko.l  ».»  l-ron.l  at  hi;r, 
an'  wl,is,,e.-od  somothi,.'  an'  she  hlnslu'd  an'  sunlod  a;.;  ,n, 
an'  ho  took  MisR  Nory  out  ol,  my  arn.s,  sho  was  a  woo  tlnnjx, 
la  I  had  drossod  her  all  up  in  wlnte,  so  that  sho  looked 
like  a  little  a,.,'el,  and  gave  her  to  M.ss  Idy  say.n       I  h  « 
is  niv  ehild.'   iMiss  Uly  didn't  say  any  thin',  but  we  alUaw 
byl  I  lessod  look  that  came  into  her  eyes  and  do  tears 
St  tilled  'em  as  she  kisso.l  the  little  darli,,',  that  she  won  1 
be  a  mother  to  her,  and,  God  bross  her,  she  has  been     By 
IL  time  all  oh  us  had  crowded  'roun.l  'em,  to  ..Icorj.o 
'om  home.     Mars'r  told  Miss   Idy  our   ..anu-s,  an    sho 
Hpoke  to  us,  so  sood  dat  we  lobed  her  tro.n  .  at  moment 
Ah!  dem  was  happy  days,  de  time  when  Mib«  Idy  tus 
come !"  and  Aunt  Uoxy  shook  her  head  slowly,  wlule  her 
thoughts  wandered  far  back  into  the  past. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Ida  is  a  good  mistress  to  you,    rcm.uktd 

Aldeane.   '  ,    .     ,  i  •    i t 

"Dat's  de  trufe!  an'  Mars'r  Frederic,  bress  his  hoait, 
is  jes'  like  her,  if  he  ain't  hor  own  brude,-.  ^os  nuss 
Zottiewill  soon  be  a  comin' aloug,  don't  you  tret  none 
about  her !  Well !  as  I  was  a  gwine  ter  say,  last  winter 
is  three  years  ago,  sence  he  fust  oame  here;  dere  had 
been  de  greatest  time  made  about  his  comui',  an  when 


WO 

he 
loo 
Mi* 

it, 

talk 

Loi' 

do 

Whi 

hoai 

bott 

a  fcx 

'bou 

fust 

Btrai 

afor. 

a  po 

tracl 

tiiik 

conic 

lie'd 

you 

ingo 

iiig  h 

poacli 
tliis  r 

said  j 
why  d 
all  de 
"A 
eberyl 

an'  oil 
might, 


''i  I'D  HAN  E. 


103 


•i!     I  toll  yo 
t  dt'rc'h  Hoinc 
111  jl'H  look   ul 
;,  ail'  iiH  party 
i  iiiny  woods, 
1 !   yod  hIiouM 
lino.     Slu'  wiH 
,m  now,  iin'  as 
I  shf  s«'tn  UH  a 
IdiiHlu'tl  liko  a 
lohn,  do  conic 
)  |iroutl  at  her, 
ii'  HinilLHl  a<,''in, 
vaHawoi'thinjX, 
tliat  sill!  louki'd 
y,  savin',  '  'Hiis 
,'  but  wo  all  saw 
es,  and  do  tears 
,  that  she  wouM 
o  has  been.    By 
em,  to  welcome 
names,  an'   Bho 
m\  dat  moment, 
n  IMiss  Idy  fust 
lowly,  while  her 
t. 
you,"  remarked 

,  bress  his  heart, 
dor.  Vos,  miss, 
't  you  fret  none 
r  say,  last  winter 
here;  dere  had 
comiii',  an'  when 


!^•^^•t'":;:7^M'^"'''^''^'^'•''''"''••'>•  ^'*''^"- 

Mis^  1,1    VI        """','""'  >"  ^'•'"  ^veM  thou-rht  as  how  all 
.'iL     I      .',    ,    ''"""'   """''"    <"'"•  ^veeks  l,„    talk    talk 

•out  .,,  h..nh.-   'twarn't  possibh-.     W,...,.   ,  ;  .'I  , 
ooinelu.  was  nil.,,  J.,, n,  ,,,.,,,,,,,„„,,.  :'^ 

s  ran.r,.r,  y,.  know,  hut  he  soon  jrot  oIkt  .I-u      , 
«fo..ehewontawayhcwasaeu,th.'u;;,:;^:,     J::^ 

'It',  :\::'r'r::''7'^-  ^<"""*'"- '-vou.:. 

iw.'i  '""•'"    Met  all  us  olo  womou  a   ailin'  an' den 

s.id1;?b  '.*'"'  ^T"^ '  ""'  '^''''  J^'^'  ^^■'•'•^^  ^^^^  Frederic. 
An  I  told  1„,„  I  coul.Ir.'t  do  it,  an'  I  'lowed  a,  ho,r 

*:■:»'"":!  "'"?:"""■  '■'"'■•  »"•-»*  -""  .i™  °" 

:;;.t;,:L'at.""-^^"'°"''  >' """  ^- ''"".™'  «oi' 


104 


ALDEANE. 


"«No  Bah,'  says  I,  '<le  chillun  worries  her  mighty 
sometimes,  I  s'poso.  But  lor,  :Mars'r  Fred,  teachin'  ain't 
hard  work,  least    ays  she's  used  to't  I  'spect.' 

"  '  No,'  he  said, kinder  earnest-like,— '  no,  Aunt  lloxy,  if. 
isn't  easy  work,  an'  when  I  knew  Miss  Aldeane,  years  ago, 
she  was  jes'  as  much  ob  a  lady  as  Leonore  is  now.' 

"  Well,  Miss  Aldcano,  I  was  sot  right  baek  when  I 
hoard  him  say  that,  for  though  I  always  had  thought  you 
was  mighty  smart  and  clever,  I'd  no  idee  you  was  quality. 
So,  I  says,  '  Now,  Mars'r  Frederic,  you  don't  say  so.' 

'"Yes,  I  do  say  so.  Aunt  Roxy,'  he  said,  '  an'  mean  it, 
too.  I  had  no  idee  ob  eber  findin'  her  here.  Don't  you 
tink  she  needs  a  lioliday  ?' 

«  '  Yes,  Mars'r  Frederic,  I  do,'  says  I, '  an'  I  believe  Miss 
Idy  would  a-given  her  one,  if  she'd  noticed  how  missuble 
she's  looked  for  a  week  or  more,'  for,  indeed,  Miss  Guth- 
rie, you  habn't  looked  like  yourself. 

"'Well,  auntie,'  says  be,  'we  musn't  let  Miss  Aldeane 
ant  sick  over  her  task,  and  as  a  particular  favor  to  me  do 
all  you  can  for  her  in  ebery  way,  while  she  stays  here.'^ 
Dem  was  his  bery  words,  an'  den  he  walks  slow  an' 
thoughtful-like  away  from  de  kitchin,  wid  his  head  a 
hangln'  down,  an'  a  bit.n'  his  fingers,  as  if  he  was  tinkin' 

migiity  hard. 

"  Dat  ebenin',  as  I  was  a-sittin'  under  de  big  mimosa,  at 
de  end  ob  de  porch,  I  seen  Miss  Idy  an'  Mars'r  Fred,  an' 
de  cbiUun  all  a  sittin'  dere.  Purty  soon  he  took  iMiss 
Jessie  on  his  knee  an'  axed  her  if  she  didn't  want  a  holi- 
day ?  O'  course  shv.  said  Yes,  she  did,  mighty  bad,  an' 
Frank  called  out  that  he  wanted  to  go  shootin,'  an'  Eddie 
muttered  sometin'  'bout  wishin'  dere  warn't  no  books,  an' 
wantin'  to  get  shet  ob  'era  for  awhile  any  how.  Mars'r 
Fred,  he  larfed,  an'  said  to  Jessie,  '  You  go  ober  to  yer 
ma,  an'  ax  her  in  your  prettiest  way,  to  let  you  hab  a 
holiday.'  So  de  dear  little  critter  did  so,  an'  Miss  Idy 
said, '  Oh,  Fred,  you  arc  a  spiliu'  dese  chillun  !'  an'  gave 


he 
ds 

lai 

so' 
kii 

Al 
dis 
goi 

doi 
nel 

hoa 
der 
Ian 
tho 
repi 
ern 
not 
Aid 
wl« 

deal 
in  £ 
thou 
drea 
mor: 
deiu 


18  her  migli^V 
,  tcachin'  ain't 
ct.' 

Aunt  lloxy,  i*^^ 
■ano,  years  ago, 
;  is  now.' 
t  back  when  I 
id  thought  you 
ou  was  quality. 
)n't  Bay  bo.' 
3,  '  an'  mean  it, 
re.     Don't  you 

i'  I  believe  Miss 
i  how  missuble 
eed,  Miss  Guth- 

it  Miss  Aldcane 
favor  to  me  do 
she  stays  here.' 
walks  slow  an' 
ft'id  his  head  a 
f  he  was  tinkin' 

3  big  mimosa,  at 
Mars'r  Fred,  an' 
11  he  took  JMiss 
in't  want  a  holi- 
mighty  bad,  an' 
ootin,'  an'  Eddie 
n't  no  books,  an' 
ny  how.  Mars'r 
X  go  obor  to  yer 
to  let  you  hab  a 
so,  an'  Miss  Idy 
hillun !'  an'  gave 


A  L  DBA  HE. 


105 


her  a  kiss,  .in'  said,  '  yes,  darlin',  you  can  all  have  a  holi- 
day next  week. 

"'Leonore  must  liave  a  rest  too,' he  said.  .Aliss  Idv 
larled,  an'  said  '  Yes.'  ^ 

"'l)ei-e,  now,'  said  .Mars'r  Frederic,  '  you  is  all  di,- 
solved  from  study  next  week,  run  now  as  fast  as  you 
km  and  tell  Miss  Aldeaue.'  ^ 

"  De  way  dey  went  M-asn't  slow.  So  now  you  see,  Miss 
Aldeane,  'twas  all  along  of  Mars'r  Frederic  dat  ye  got 
dis  liohday,  an'  I  seen  his  face  by  de  moonlight  when  he 
got  It  for  ye,  an'  he  was  smilin' so  kinder  pleased   ve 

don't  know.     Oh '  I  uA]  von   Arovu'..  t.\.„  i     •  ' 

".     v/ij.  X  itn  ycu,  Jiars  r  i'redenc  am  a  jien- 

nelman,  an'  u,  good  one  too." 

"  It  certauily  was  very  kind  of  him,"  said  Aldeane,  her 
heart  Swelling  at  this  unexpected  kindness.  She  won- 
dered  at  his  motive  for  evincing  such  interest  in  her  wol- 
iare  to  others,  while  to  lier  he  seldom  even  spoke.  These 
thoughts  perplexed  her,  while  Aunt  Koxy,  garrulously 
repeated  her  opinion  of  "  Mars'r  Frederic,"  and  of  North- 
ern people  in  general.  She  did  not  perceive  that  she  was 
not  listened  to,  and  was  rather  surprised  when  she  heard 
A  deane  leave  the  kitchen,  bidding  her  send  Zettie  to  her 
wJien  she  came  in. 

"Well  I  'clar  for't,"  observed  tlie  cook,  shaking  lier 
gayly-turbaned  head  eageriy,  "I  do  b'lieve  Miss  Al- 
deane s  sick  or  somethin',  I  never  seed  a  lady  act  so  queer 
in  all  my  days  afore.  Lor',  lor,'"  she  added,  with  a 
thoughtful  frown,  "dat  ar  face  ob  hers  do  seem  like  i 
dream  to  me,  like  one  ob  dera  dreams  dat  comes  in  de 
mornin  when  a  body's  thinldn'  ob  gettin'  up;  one  ob 
dem  dreams  dat  keeps  in  a  body's  head  all  de  day  "\ 


t( 
p 


CHAPTER   nil. 

A  TKUCE   PROCLAIMED. 

In  a  few  days  there  was  a  marked  change  ia  Aldeane's 
appearance,  caused,  she  said,  to  all  that  commented  tliere- 
on,  by  freedom  from  teachiog,  and,  as  she  told  herself,  \>y 
the  abscncr  uf  Mr.  Morgan^  Perhaps  the  communication 
of  Aunt  lloxy  was  not  without  its  effect,  at  least,  she 
owned  to  herself,  that  it  had  softened  her  feelings  toward 
her  old  acquaintance,  but  not  so  much  so  but  that  she 
still  felt  his  absence  a  relief,  when  one  day,  a;  the  end  of 
her  week's  holiday,  she  set  out  on  foot  for  Loring,  prefer- 
n. :;  to  accomplish  the  journey  afoot,  at  the  risk  of  some 
fotrgue,  rather  than  any  of  the  children  should  accompr.ny 
lier,'^as  they  would  surely  wish  to  do,  if  she  went  in  the 
carriage.     Nearly  the  whole  way,  the  road  lay  through 
thick  woods ;  it  was  shady  and  cool,  and  the  distance  was 
soon  accomplished.     She  entered  the  post-office,  maile<l 
her  letters,  and  received  one  from  lielle.     As  she  turned 
to  leave,  she  perceived  that  the  evening  stage  had  arrived. 
Casting  a  careless  glance  toward  it,  to  her  great  surprise, 
she  saw  Mr.  Morgan  alight.     She  supposed,  that  Colonel 
Arendell  would  follow,  but  she  looked  in  vain.    Uv.  Mor- 
gan was  alone.     At  sight  of  hint,  all  her  misgivings  re- 
turned with  double  force.     She  again  entered  the  office, 
hoi)ing  he  had  not  noticed  her.     She  was  disappointed  ; 
he  had  seen  her,  and   ■ntering,  accosted  her  with  a  formal 
bow  and  an  incpiiry  after  her  health  and   that   of  the 
family,  adding : 

"  You  came  in,  in  the  carriage,  I  suppose  ?" 


w 

tl 

h 
cc 

sa 

it 
w 
w 

"1 
ex 

in! 
wr 
ga 


is) 
coi 

i 

tor 
bei 
edi 


T 


ALDEAA'E. 


107 


ge  in  Aldoane's 
mmentetl  there- 
told  herself,  l)y 
communication 
t,  at  least,  she 
feelings  toward 
lo  but  that  she 
V',  a.,  the  end  of 
■  Loring,  prefer- 
he  risk  of  some 
3uld  aecompr.ny 
ihe  Avent  in  the 
»ad  lay  through 
he  distance  was 
st-office,  mailed 
As  she  turned 
age  had  arrived, 
r  great  surprise, 
ed,  that  Colonel 
vain.    Mr.  Mor- 
r  misginngs  re- 
itered  the  office, 
is  disappointed ; 
er  with  a  formal 
,nd   that   of  the 

)8e?" 


" No,  sir;  I  walked  in,"  she  rejjlied. 

"Did  you?  How  very  foolish,  such  a  warm  day 
too!"  lie  returned,  a  vexed  yet  solicitous  eq)ression 
passing  ovir  his  face. 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir !  If  you  had  written,  a  conveyance 
would  have  been  in  waiting  for  you,"  she  answered 

"  I  know  that !  The  fact  is  it  was  so  dull  at  Italeitrli 
that  I  made  up  my  mind  to  leave  Arendeil  there  and 
come  liome;  and  now  I  find,"  he  added  ruefully,  "that  I 
have  to  walk  tliere.  I  suppose  you  will  allow  me  to  ac- 
company you?" 

"1  believe  there  is  but  one  road  to  Arendeil,  sir,"  she 
said  coldly. 

"Ah  !  I  suppose  thixt  means,  that  you  will  submit  to 
It  as  a  necessity,  or,  tliat  you  h;. ^e  no  objection  if  I  will 
wait  for  you.  IIow  long  will  my  patience  be  tried  ?  It 
will  endure  a  long  lime." 

"  I  was  about  to  leave,  when  you  arrived." 

"If  that  is  to  signify  that  you  arc  realv,"said  he 
"let  us  be  going.  It  is  five  o'clock  now;  they  will  be 
expecting  you  home  soon." 

They  sauntered  slowly  down  the  street  and  turned 
into  the  road,  neither  uttering  a  word.  Just  as  Aldeane 
was  becoming  weary  of  the  protracted  silence,  Mr.  Mor- 
gan said  : 

"  You  have  a  letter  there,  I  see," 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Why  don't  you  read  it  ?" 
^    '•  I  don't  suppose  it  is  of  much  consequence.     I  see  it 
IS  from  Belle  ;  and  of  course  I  would  not  read  it  in  your 
company,  Avitliout  your  i)ermis8ion." 

"  You  have  it,"  he  rcj.lied,  a  sarcastic  expression  dis- 
torting his  features.  "  You  must  suffer  martvrdom,  in 
being  so  long  deprived  of  tlie  continuation  of  the  last 
edition  from  l^oston." 

"  I  presume,  I  am  not  half  so  anxious  to  know  tlio 


J 


108 


ALDEA.\F!. 


news,  as  you  are  yourself!"  she  thought,  as  -without 
further  hesitation  she  broke  the  seal,  and  was  soon  en- 
gaged in  perusing  the  many  pages  of  the  letter.  They 
were  soon  finished,  eareiully  refolded,  and  returned  to 
the  envelope.  For  some  time  they  continued  to  walk  on 
in  eileiice.  Mr.  Morgan's  brow  darkening  at  every  step, 
and  Aldeane's  face  became  still  more  deeply  enshrouded 
in  the  veil  of  thought.  Some  distance  was  thus  traversed. 
"  Well !"  thought  Aldeane,  "  I  can  keep  silent  as  long 
as  you,  sir.     I  wonder  how  long  that  will  be  ?' 

The  question  was  presently  answered  by  Mr.  Morgan's 
exclaiming  ;     "  Why  do  you  not  speak,  Miss  Guthrie  ?" 

Aldeane  thought  she  might  have  retorted  with  the  same 
query,  but  she  said,  "  I  was  waiting  for  you  to  speak 
first,  besides,  I  did  not  know  what  to  say  !" 

"  For  the  first  time  in  your  life  then,  I  guess !  I  re- 
member, you  used  to  be  very  talkative  years  ago.  But 
tell  me  the  news,  if  there  is  any !  What  does  Belle 
write  ?" 

"  Well !  for  one  thing,  she  expressed  astonishment  at 
your  being  Mrs.  Arondell's  brother,  and  that  you  should 
be  visiting  here.  Then,  she  gives  a  description  of  her 
trip,  during  which,  she  met  Miss  Grcyson,  who  seemed 
to  be  in  better  health  than  usual." 

"  Any  thing  else  ?" 

"Nothing  particular,  sir.  She  said  that  Arthur  and 
Chester  Ilalcombe  would  commence  practicing  this  fall, 
and  that  Annie  said  you  were  going  to,  but  that  she 
doubted  it." 

"No  wonder!  I  have  been  idle  so  long,  but  I  am 
going  to  make  up  for  lost  time,  and  cure  every  sick  man, 
woman,  or  child,  in  Boston  and  for  ten  miles  around,  this 
next  winter.     Is  there  nothing  else  ?" 

"Merely  a  rumor  that  Mr.  Nevins  is  about  to  bo 
married." 

"  Ah !  and  how  would  that  affect  you,  Miss  Guthrie  ?" 


"] 
belie 
as  Hi 

ac<iu 

(( 

has  c 

"C 

by  a 

oppn 

"> 

am   r 

oblig( 

"I 

iflw 

inflict 

She 

was  p 

follow 

"G( 

conclii 

can  e: 

not  w( 

over  t 

IVIay  t 

oppres 

Guthri 

"II: 

conduc 

deavor 

"Ah 

my  sisf 

"As 

her  che 

that  I  (1 

dead,  tl 

the  opi 


ALDEANE. 


lit,  as  -withont 
d  was  soon  en- 
e  letter.  Thoy 
lid  returned  to 
uied  to  walk  on 
I  at  every  step, 
■ply  enBlirouded 
I  thus  traversed. 
I  silent  as  long 

be?' 

ly  Mr.  Morgan's 
liss  Guthrie  ?" 
;d  with  the  same 
ir  you  to  speak 

!" 

I  guess !  I  re- 
^rears  ago.  But 
hat  does  Belle 

istonishment  at 
:hat  you  should 
icription  of  her 
an,  who  seemed 


hat  Arthur  and 
cticing  this  fall, 
,o,  but  that  she 

long,  but  I  am 
every  sick  man, 
liles  around,  this 

is  about  to  bo 

Miss  Guthrie  ?" 


109 


"It  would   produce  no  effect,  sir!    Still  I  scarcely 
boheve  It.     ]}«t  at  any  rate,  Mr.  Nevins  and  myself  are 

"Our  bonds  of  affection  were  never  very  stron-.  and 
by  a  rude  blow  they  were  severed.  'Tis  the  old  talc  of 
oppression  and  injustice  !     Nothing  more  " 

"  Nevertheless,  Miss  Guthrie,  it  is  a  new  edition.  If  I 
am  not  intruding  on  strictly  family  secrets,  you  would 
oblige  me  very  much  by  giving  it." 

"I  will  do  so  certainly,  if  you  wish  it;  but  remember 
.f  I  weary  you  with  a  long  story,  that  you  brought  tie 
infliction  upon  yourself."  '""oin  uie 

She  then  narrated  as  briefly,  as  quietly,  and  calmly  as 
?ono^-:ii;t'         "^"'  ""'  '"  -other's ^leath,  and  IZ 

cTS  V  ''''"'  "'""'*  impossible  that  such  men 
cuiexis!  ^ou  are  agitated  by  this  narration!  I  do 
not  wonder  at  it.  Oh  !  what  darkness  must  have  hu  ^ 
ove.  ,     «,  ,,,,,  ,  „^^  youmusthavesuffb'     1 

May  the  vengeance  of  God  speedily  overtake  tlie  vile 
oppressor  I  know  that  it  eventually  will !  Ah  -  Mit 
Guthrie  this  partly  explains  your  conduct  toward  me  - " 
1  believe,  sir,"  returned  Aldeane,  hau^htilv  "that  mv 
conduct  has  befitted  my  station.  At  k-a  'i  ^ZZ 
deavorcd  to  make  it  do  so !" 

"Ah !  Miss  Guthrie,  can  you  never  for^ret  that  voii  aro 
my  sister's  governess,  as  I  continually  do"?  Anl^>  " 
As  you  never  do,  sir !"  she  interrupted,  passionately 
her  c^ieeks  crimsoning  with  excitement  "Do  ylTx^^ 
that  I  am  a  block  of  sculptured  marble,  passioJiL  a  J 
dead,  that  I  can  not  see  how  in  every  action  you  exhiS 
the  opmion  you  entertain  of  me?    I  do  no/ think  oi^! 


110 


ALDEANE. 


thought  of  tlie  grief  ^vhich  you  know  ovprosscs  mc  ever 
troubk-8  you.  Your  do.irc  for  a  ntory  has  boon  gratihed; 
Jo  not  urue  me  to  spoak  further !" 

» I   will    not,  .Miss   ( Juthri.-,"   returnea   Mr.  Morgan, 
c-ilmlv    "  You  are  mistaken  in  mo.    1  think  ot  you  otten, 
and  with  Borrow.     I  ean  not  hut  compare  tl.e  mirthtul, 
centlo  cirl  I  left  little  more  than  two  years  ago,  witli  the 
passionate  cr.  ature  that  walks  by  my  side  so  tiereely  now. 
What  though  sorrow  has  come  upon  you!  wluit  though 
injustice  has  despoiled  you !  should  you  doubt  old  Irionds, 
who  with  kind  hearts  and  hands,  would  greet  you  t    11ns 
shows  not  the  trusting  heart  of  woman,     bave  ni  person, 
I  can  not  recognize  the  Aldeane  Guthrie  of  years  ago; 
even  that  is  sadly  changed.     The  forehead,  once  so  white 
and  smooth,  is  clouded,  tiie  eyes  are  ireful,  the  lips  scorn- 
ful, and  wearing  alone  the  o'd  look  of  determination, 
•vhi'h  was  always  too  strongly  marked;  no  smiles  linger 
upon  them  nosv.    Your  mourning  garb  seems  even  to  en- 
shroud your  spirit;  the  sunshine  of  God  never  seems  to 
fall  upon  it.     Ah !  ^Uss  Guthrie,  this  is  wrong 

"  Do  not  reprove  me,  ]Mr.  Morgan !"  murmured  Aldeane, 
her  lips  cpiivering  nervously. 

"Even  my  friendship,"  he  contumed,  bitterly,  you 
have  doubted  and  cast  away.  When  I  again  proffered 
it  it  was  rejected  with  disdain.  My  interest  in  you  fails 
not ;  yet  of  what  avail  is  it?  To  you  it  is  worthless  be- 
cause it  comes  from  an  old  source." 

"  Ah !  Mr.  Morgan,  you  do  not  understaud  my  teel- 

'""''ycs  Miss  Guthrie,!  do  !">he  answered,  stopping  sud- 
denly beneath  a  large  oak-tree,  for  they  were  near  Aren- 
dell  House.  "  Kest  a  momert,  and  I  will  tell  you  what 
they  are.  Love  of  approval;  shame  of  your  position  in 
life  •  and  pride— that  talse  pride  that  lives  in  the  hearts 
of  all  and  predominates  over  the  good  feelings  of  many. 
I  have  spoken  truly,  Aldeane !  and  how  unworthy  arc 


thof 

for  1 

A 

men 

lior 

seoir 

"< 

telli 

see  t 

else 

exon 

"1 

"I 

short 

will  1 

Al( 

she  r( 

ical  Si 

fivce ; 

iAIr.  3J 

derne 

—bet 

"O 

and  v( 

of  all; 

"Ai 

a  friei 

it?" 

"Gl 
"I  fee 
me  to 
have  n 
and  8c 
again.' 
"Th 
you  sh 


T 


■A.LDEANE. 


l>pres8C9  me  ever 
as  beongratitiod; 

icd  Sir.  Morgan, 
hink  of  you  often, 
lare  tlie  mirthful, 
[•ars  ago,  Avith  the 
lo  so  fiercely  now. 
,'ou !  what  though 

doubt  old  friends, 
1  greet  you 't  Tliis 
I.  bave  in  person, 
n-ie  of  years  ago; 
R'ad,  once  so  white 
L'ful,  the  lil)s  seoru- 

of  determination, 
1 ;  no  smiles  linger 
)  seems  even  to  cn- 
od  never  seems  to 
is  wrong !'' 
nurmured  Aldeane, 

led,  bitterly,  "you 
n  I  again  proffered 
interest  in  you  fails 
I  it  is  worthless  be- 

nderstaud  my  feel- 

vered,  stopping  sud- 
ley  were  near  Aren- 
[  will  tell  you  what 

of  your  position  in 
t  lives  in  the  hearts 
od  feelings  of  many. 

how  unworthy  are 


111 


those  feelings  of  the  brain-I  will  not  say  of  the  heart 
for  that  st.ll  is  good-that  contains  thorn  "  ' 

A  deane  folt  that  his  words  were  .r„c.   'shc  went  vche 
n;e.Uly„.  sorrow  a,.l  shame.     31.  M...^a„  CZ^  '^ 
Hi  Mitl    an  expression  at  once  mournful  and  stc-rn-  yo 
Boemingiy  pleased  at  this  outburst  of  feeling  '  ^ 

toll  ;  y'^f^^^--  Guthrie,"  he  said  at  Ien.nh  ".nd 

.r   Tr'      "?  ,?"'"'  ^^"^>"^     '  ^''-k,  even  no 
r     n    tritt^^'^^'TT"--     ^'''^  ^^"'  «PiHt-wh'at 

evorci'L      T  r V'  '*'•"  '"^  ^""^^  possessed  you  is 

i-vouisea.     Have  I  spoken  truly  ?" 

'' Ves;  oh  yes!"  came  in  broken  murmurs 

will  refresh  vn„      T  ^  *'""*5  ^"'n^'  ^^ter 

win  rcnesft  you.     Lean  upon  me!" 

Aldeane  heeded  him  not,  but  hurried  onward  When 
she  reached  the  water,  she  knelt  down,  and,  with  hys te" 
jea  sobs,  leaned  over  the  bank  and  bathed  h'  h'etd 
^  ce ;  the  cold  water  refreshed  her.  Glancing  up,  she  saw 
Mr.  Morgan  standing  at  her  side,  his  eyes  filled  vith  en 
derness,  looking  sorrowfully  upon  her  "  Yo„  J^  , 
—better?"  he  said.  P""  "cr.        ion  are  calmer 

and  "^"Z^  'C-  "Tf  .  "  '  ''^'-^  ^-'  ^«'-f' 
of  all     IZ  7^^  '  "'•^'''^'  ^^'^"''^^^^  the  friendship 

ot  all ,  but  It  IS  my  nature  !     What  can  I  do  V" 

Atone  for  your  past  coldness  by  acceptinc.  me   fo.- 
a  fnend  now,  Aldeane,"  he  answered.     "\vm   ^ou  d^ 

me  to  myself.  I  know  now  that  the  change  for  which  I 
Lave  accused  you,  has  been  in  myself-i„  the  bittern  s! 
and  .mshne.  of  my  heart.     I  Lll  never  douU;^: 

you  shall  not  slander  yourself!     I  should  not  be  a  true 


112 


ALDEANE. 


friend  to  allow  that.    Come,  it  is  time  to  pnrsnc  onr  -.vay. 
The  sun  is  easting  his  last  rays  over  us." 

She  walked  heside  him  silently,  with  a  stranfje  hapi)i- 
ness  at  her  lieart,  though  lier  hrain  was  busy  with  a  thou- 
sand painful  thoufjlits.  They  were  soon  ai  the  bend  of 
the  road,  on  turni.ig  v/hich  they  would  be  in  sight  of 
Arendell  I  louse. 

"  Miss  Aldeane,"  said  3Ir.  Morgan  smiling,  "  you  once 
refused  to  shake  hand-;  with  me.  Will  you  do  so  now, 
and  thereby  ratify  your  contract  of  making  me  your 
friend?" 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Morgan !"  and  Aldeane  gladly  ex- 
tended her  hand,  which  he  clasped  warmly,  saying ;  "  I 
know  sister  Ida  was  shocked  at  m/  neglect  of  the  cere- 
mony the  other  day,  but  you  know—,"  his  brow  darken- 
ing, "  that  it  is  bad  for  the  hand  to  go  where  the  heart  is 
not !  Ilillo  !  Frank  !"  as  they  turned  the  corner  and  saw 
that  young  gentleman  with  an  admiring  crowd  of  juven- 
iles, both  wiiite  and  black  around  him,  preparing  to  firo 
at  a  dead  crow,  which  had  been  set  up  as  a  target.  Frank 
deliberately  discharged  nis  piece,  then  tui  -d  tv->Avard 
them,  while  Jessie  and  Eddie  ran  to  raoet  il.cm,  the 
former  exclaiming : — 

"  Oh  !  here's  Miss  Aldeane  and  Uncle  Fred !  Why  I 
how  d'ye  do,  uncle  ?" 

"  Oh,  right  smar.  i  my  little  Carolinian,  and  how  do 
you  come  on  ?"  he  replied,  laughing,  as  he  caught  her  in 
his  arms  and  kissed  her. 

"  What  did  you  come  hora«}  so  soon  for  ?"  said  Eddie. 
Frank  who  had  approached'  them,  demanded  eagerly, 
"AVhereispa?    He  promised  to  bring  me  a  bran  new 
rifle !     Hasn't  he  "come  ?" 

"The  fact  is,"  returned  Mr.  Morgan  gravly,  yet 
scarcely  able  to  repress  a  smile  at  their  nu'k^e  greetings, 
"he  couldn't  get  a  rifle  to  suit  in  Kaleigh,  so  he  has 
gc  •  e  farther  north  for  one." 


n  pursue  our  '.vay. 

I  a  stranfjo  hapj)!- 
l)usy  witli  a  tliou- 

II  ai  the  bend  of 
d  be  in  sight  of 

nilintj,  "  you  once 
11  you  do  HO  now, 
making  nie  your 

doane  gladly  ex- 
irmly,  saying ;  "  I 
•gleet  of  the  cere- 
'  his  brow  darken- 
where  the  heart  is 
he  corner  and  sjiw 
ig  crowd  of  juveu- 
1,  preparing  to  fire 
s  a  target.  Frank 
en  tui  'vl  tv->ward 
o  meet   il.em,  the 

cle  Fred !     Why ! 

inian,  and  how  do 
IS  he  caught  her  in 

for?"  said  Eddie, 
lemanded  eagerly, 
ng  me  a  bran  new 

•rgan  gravly,  yet 
'ir  nu'ioe  greetings, 
Italeigh,  so  he  has 


ALDEANE. 


113 


"I  don't  believe  it  I"  said  FraTik,  decidedly,  marching 
np  tlio  steps  of  tile  piazza,  which  they  had  now  reached" 
wiule  .lessio  ran  inta  the  house,  ealiiiig  loudly:  ".Ala! 
ma !  IJncU'  Fifd  has  eome  home,  and  lie  says  papa  has 
gone  farther  north!" 

'^VVhat  is  that?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Arendell,  appearing. 
•'  Why  !  Fred,  how  are  you  ?  How  did  you  come  home"? 
John  iai/c  sie.c?     Ishei"' 

"One  (piestiou  at  a  time !"  replied  Mr.  IMorgan,  em- 
bracing her.  "  Your  last  siiall  be  answere.l  first"  John 
IS  well.  I  left  iiim  at  Raleigh.  It  was  so  dull  there,  that 
I  knew  I  shoidd  enjoy  myself  better  here.  I  eame  as  far 
as  Loring  in  the  stage,  there  I  met  Miss  Guthrie,  and  I 
came  homo  with  her." 

Wishing  to  escape  ol)servation,  Aldeano  entered  the 
house.  In  the  hall  she  encountered  Leouore,  who  glanced 
at  her  inquiritigly.  "IMr.  Morgan  has  eome,"  she  said, 
and  passed  on.     Leonore  ran  X)ut  to  the  piazza. 

After  the  first  greetings  were  over,  she  said  :  "  What  is 
the  matter  with  Aldeane?  I  thought  I  saw  traces  of 
tears  upon  her  face." 

^^  "  Oh !  she  is  very  lachrymose !"  replied  Mr.  Morgan. 
"  There  may  have  been  some  bad  news  in  her  letter." 

"  She  h-.s  changed  greatly  of  late !"  said  Mrs.  Arendell. 
"  Frederic,  you  don't  treat  her  well.  You  did  not  even 
shake  hands  with  her  when  you  left." 
^  "  I  was  in  a  hurry,  ma  scaur  I  that  must  be  my  apology. 
Excuse  me  I  must  go,  and  rid  myself  of  some  of  this 
dust.  What  awful  roads  you  do  have  here,  Ida  !"  IIo 
sprang  lightly  up  the  stairs.  Aldeane,  in  her  own  room, 
happier  far  than  usual,  heard  his  quick  step;  and  felt 
that  his  presence  filled  the  void  which  she  had  felt  in  the 
houee,  during  his  absence. 


CIIAPTKll    XIV. 

ALDKANH:    I.KAKN8    A   flKrUKT.  ^ 

A  YKW  plain  Avords  f.'.ark'ssly  spoken,  caiistMl  n  ^^nat 
dian<'C  in  Al.lfanf's  fcflint,'^  and  art  ions.  Slu-  was  pro- 
vokin<'lv  cnnsfiouH  that  tlu-  ionncr  liad  been  tnawki«lily 
srntinu'ntai,  an.l  clul.li.sh,  and  ti.o  lattor  s.aiTcly  loss  so. 
Tl.is  pc-rliaps  lor  a  low  days  in.luccd  lii-r  to  maintain 
mm-h  of  Iht  fornuT  rcsiTVf,  but  much  to  the  f.'ratiluati()ii 
of  Mrs.  ArendoU  and  J^oonore,  a  .i,'rowin«{  fncudsliip 
bftwocn  Mr.  Morgan  and  the  {jovernesa  soon  hfcaino 
t.vi<U'nt,  and  upon  CVdonol  An-ndrll's  naurn  from  KaUniili 
with  the  lu'W  rirtc  Frank  iiad  coveted,  and  numorons  -,lts 
for  tlie  rest  of  the  family,  he  declared  that  home  had 
never  been  so  delightful,  for  mirtli  and  gladness  truly 
filled  the  liouse. 

Vhe  hours  of  evening,  whieh  had  formerly  been  spent 
by  Aldeane  in  moodiness  and  gloom,  in  tlie  solitude  of 
her  own  chamber,  were  now  j.assed  in  the  parlor  with  the 
cheerful  family.  «he  sang  with  Mr.  Morgan  the  old 
son«'s  that  had  been  his  favorites  in  by-gone  years.  There 
was^a  serene  happiness  at  her  heart  in  those  moments ; 
her  pride  and  self-esteem  were  gratified  ;  she  was  consid- 
ered an  equal,  and  treated  as  such,  and  often  as  a  loved 
and  near  friend.  This,  to  Aldeane,  was  happiness.  .No 
lon<rer  was  Jdr.  Morgan  mute  or  col<l  toward  her;  he 
seemed,  indeed,  to  find  his  greatest  pleasure  in  calling 
forth  the  rare  powers  of  her  mind.  She  had  n-ad  much 
and  carefully,  and  ha.l  garnered  a  store  of  knowledge  un- 
usually large  ibr  one  of  her  years.     His  seemed  to  be  tlie 


hnnt] 

fiileii 
ing 
M'orl 
resid 
sive 
Ilith 
nighl 
whicl 
'J'h 
noon, 

wo  III! 

slie  SI 

pnre-1 

chanj; 

that 

liavo 

intent 

lie  re  i 

"A 
lated 

Tui 
standi 
liat  in 
damp 
fearin 
lie  re] 
swer, 

"Al 
raemb 


If  this 


AIDE  AN  K. 


116 


II,  ciiiisiMl  !\  jjjri'at 
iirt.  SIr'  wiis  ])!•()- 
I  Ik'C'II  inawkiHlily 
r  sciuroly  loss  so. 
her  to  iiiaiiitaiii 
o  the  ■iratitlfiitioii 
•owing  IVicuilship 
1088  soon  l)t'('aiiu' 
■turn  from  Kali'iirli 
iiul  immoroiis  i^il'ls 
\\  that  houu*  had 
nd  gladut'sa  truly 

rnicrly  been  spent 
,  in  tlie  solitude  of 
the  pai-lor  with  the 
.  Morgan  the  old 
gone  years.  Thero 
in  tliose  moments; 
d  ;  she  was  eonsid- 
id  often  as  a  loved 
as  happiness.  Mo 
1(1  toward  her;  he 
pleasure  in  ealling 
he  had  read  nuieh 
•e  of  knowledge  un- 
is  seemed  to  be  the 


hanil  that  could  most  easily  unroll  the  cerementH  of  dif- 
fidence lliat  enshrouded  them, and  liriiig  her  varied  h'arn- 
ing  ami  laleiils  fortii.  She  seemed  to  live  in  a  hrighiir 
world.  She  had  known  little  care  or  sorrow  during  Inr 
resi<lence  at  the  South,  hut  her  happiness  hail  beeirpas- 
siye  and  changeless;  new  it  was  varying,  yet  intense. 
Hitherto  she  had  dwelt  in  the  nuM.n-lit  trani|uillily  of 
night  ;  now  she  walked  in  the  busy  avenues  of  life,  over 
Avhich  the  king  of  day  threw  his  brilliance. 

'i'liis  was  the  tenor  of  her  tlunights  one  bright  after- 
noon, as  she  htl  the  house  ami  set  forth  to  visit  a  sick 
woman  that  dwelt  in  a  little  cabin  on  the  estate.  "  Vcs!" 
she  solihxpiized,  "  Frederi(!  Morgan  is  the  same  gi'uial, 
pure-hearted  gentleman  as  of  old,  but  I  was  so  much 
changed !  and  I  fear  1  still  am.  1  know  I  am  i)roud,  but 
that  is  n.y  nature.  It  existed  always;  arcumstances 
have  lately  called  it  forth.  1  wonder  when  Mr.  .Morgan 
intends  to  return  to  the  North  '/  Uh  !  it  will  be  so  hmely 
liere  without  him  !" 

"Ah  !  Miss  Aldeanc,  where  are  you  going  to?"  ejacu- 
lated a  voice  behind  her. 

Turning  suddenly,  the  saw  the  subject  of  her  thoughts 
standing  before  her,  his  face  flushed  wi  exercise,  his 
Jiat  in  one  hand,  while  with  the  other  he  t  ssed  back  his 
damp  hair  from  his  temples.  She  blushed  deeply,  almost 
fearing  that  he  knew  of  what  she  had  been  thinking,  and 
he  repeated  his  question  before  she  fouml  voice  to  uu- 
Bwer,  "To  Graimy  IJray's." 

"  Ah !  to  C4ranny  Bray's,  are  you  ?  You  seem  to  re- 
member the  injunction : — 

'Be  a  uurso  to  the  sick;  to  the  erring  !\  guide  ; 
Be  a  friend  to  the  poor;  lot  this  bo  thy  prido. 
Then  sliall  tli)  patlnvay  through  life  bo  so  brigljt, 
That  angels  si  dl  see  it,  aud  smile  with  delight.' 

If  this  be  true,  and  if  you  liave  any  pity  for  the  most  mis- 


116 


A  LDKANK. 


crnUo.  H]»coimpn  of  liuiuivuity  tliat  you  over  beheld,  lot  mo 
go  with  ytni." 

"C'crliiiiily  !     Ihit  wliiit  w  the  mutUr  wit!-  y<>ii,  nir  V" 
"The    imitter,   «li<l    y«>ii   say  W   li«   quorietl   rueluUy. 
"Well !  I'll  lor^'ivc  the  .piestioii !    Terhaiis  you  have  not 
nolieed  tin'  tloinj^s  ul  the  house  lately  V" 

"  All  Heeiiis  to  no  on  about  urt  usual,  1  think." 
"  Now,  Miss  Altleane  !  This  al'teinoon,  I'eelinj,'  deci- 
dedly yraeii>iis  and  ronnnunieative,  1  entered  the  sitting- 
room.  What  was  my  annoyanee  to  lind  Ida  overeomu 
with  the  lieat,  or  laziness,  whieh  is  about  the  same  thing, 
reelining  on  the  sofa,  last  asleep,  and  Jessie  upon  the 
floor  in  the  same  state.  I  heard  Leonore  iilaying  mo- 
notonously upon  the  i)iano  in  the  i)arlor.  I  went  in, 
hoping  to  lind  her  ready  to  desist,  but  she  only  i)layed 
on  all  the  liwtef,  and  exclaimed,  '  Oh !  I'nele  Fred,  <lon't 
interrui)t  me,  I  uuist  jtraetiee !'  So  I  went  out  to  lind 
Arendell  or  the  boys,  but  they  were  invisible.  I  looked 
around  lor  you,  but  you  were  iu)where  to  be  seen.  I 
asked  Jule  where  you  were.  'She's  gone  up  do  mill 
road,  sali ;  bin  goiu'  'bout  ten  minutes  !'  I  ran  down'tho 
walk,  jumped  over  the  lenee,  to  save  time,  in  my  haste 
nearly  fell  throiigh  a  hole  in  the  bridge,  and  have  nearly 
expendi'd  all  my  breath  in  running  up  hill  and  shouting 
to  you  to  sto])." 

»'  Vours  is  a  sad  ease !"  bIic  replied,  laughingly.  "  I  tear 
you  arc  beeoniing  restless :  North  Carolina  has  no  eharms 
for  you." 

"It  eontains  one  too  great — too  great," he  returned, ve- 
hemently ;  then  added,  slowly,  while  his  eyes  were  fixed 
ui)on  the  sands  at  his  feet.  "  What  do  you  think  of  it  ? 
Would  you  not  like  to  return  to  lioston?" 
"  Yes  !  yes,  indeed  !"  she  exclaimed. 
"  Oh,  Aldeane,  then—"  lie  paused  suddenly,  an  ex- 
pression of  pain  passing  over  his  face,  as  he  turned  aside 
to  let  her  enter  the  cottage,  which  they  had  now  reached. 


sver  bi'hi'lil,  let  mo 


r  wit?<.  ytiu,  Hir?" 
()UL'rieil   ruefully. 
Imiit)  you  have  not 

1  think." 

loon,  I'eelinn  tleci- 
iilcretl  the  sitliiig- 
iml  lilu  overeonio 
lit  the  HUiiie  thiiiji, 
I  Jessie  iipuii  the 
)ii()re  )tliiyinjx  nio- 
iiilor.  I  went  in, 
I  siie  only  playeil 

I'nele  Fred,  tlon't 

went  out  to  linil 
ivisible.  I  looked 
•re  to  be  seen.     I 

gone  \i\t  de  mill 
!'     I  ran  down'tho 

time,  in  niy  hasto 
c,  and  have  nearly 

hill  and  Hhouting 

lughinijly.  "  I  tear 
jlina  has  no  charms 

It,"  he  ret\irned,  ve- 
ins eyes  were  fixed 

0  you  think  of  it  ? 

1  suddenly,  an  ex- 
as  he  turned  aside 
y  had  now  reached. 


ALDEA  NE. 


117 


An  old  woman  lay  »,„,„  the  bed,  another  was  b„svi„., 
hers,.ll  al,o„t  ,h,.  rnom,  both  welcomed  Ahl.ane  henr'tiUr 
Mie  spok..  to  th,.  sick  woman,  nn.l  wImh  Mr  ]\I„r.r.,;, 
<-onst.lutin^r  l,i„„,|f  h.,,.  phyHi,.ia,.,  sat  down  Ik-sLI,,  h..r' 
Hhe  tunu.d  to  ad.lresR  the  other.  There  wan  a  loom  i„' 
the  room,  ami  iho  woman  w,is  standin-  In-for..  it,  slrivin-' 
to  reduce  to  order  a  mass  of  ..o,„,,licat..d  threads  aF- 
deane  watched  her  for  some  time,  and  then  said, 
"  What  are  y<iu  doinj;,  Sarah  V 

"  I'uttinjr  in  a  piece.  Miss  Aldeane.  It's  for  Afiss  Aren- 
dell.  Somehow  her  yarn  always  ,loes  work  mighty  ill; 
Hain't  dyed  well,  neither."  ^       ' 

"  What  is  t!m  matter  with  it,  Sarah?" 
"  Law,  ,1  „,„,„y^  ;y,i,^  AW^.,,nv,  I  .-an't  tell  ,.vactly, 
only  I  know,  'twon't,  wear  well.  Now,  your  folKs  shouhi 
dye  yarn  l.ke  I  do;  I've  just  n.a.le  John  a  new  suit  of 
elotho8,  and  if  you  was  to  meet  him  in  the  road,  vou 
would  take  him  for  a  trentieman." 

"  Indeed,  what  did  you  dye  with,  SanUi  ?" 

".Well,  Miss  Aldeane,  I'll    givt,   you    the   recipe      I 

wanted  to  dye  this  yarn,  ho  I  called  to  Uncle  San.lv- 

th.at  s  our  old  black  man,  you  know-and  says  I  to  him, 

Uncle  Sandy,  I  want  you  to  go  into  the  woods  and  get 

me  some  bark  to  dye  with.' 

" '  What  kind  of  barks,  missus  ?'  says  he. 

1'  .\^'N^'  '^''"  ''""'''  ^'''*''*  •''"''  <>*■  barks,  Uncle  Samly.' 
>V  hy,  no  I  don't,  missus.' 

"  '  Why,  Uncle  Sandy,  yes  vou  do !' 

"  *  I  declar',  missus,  I  don't.' 

"'Now,'  says  I,  '  Uncle  Sandy,  don't  you  tell  mo  th.it 
again;  you  go  and  get  mc  the  same  kind  of  bark  your 
own  clothes  is  dyed  with.' 

"So  he  went  and  got  me  the  Kirks,  and  I  dipped  the 
yarn,  and  wove  the  cloth,  and  made  John  a  suit  of 
eloth,>s,  and  I  do  declar',  if  y.,,,  w.is  to  meet  him  in  the 
road,  you'd  take  him  for  a  gentleman." 


118 


ALDEANE. 


« Is  that  all  you  did,  Sarah  ?"  asked  Aldoane,  sc.vrcely 
able  to  i-epress  a  srnilo. 

"  That's  all,  miss,  and  I'll  be  bound  thorn  colors  will 
last  after  every  stitch  of  the  cloth  is  worn  out." 

"  Are  you  ready  to  .so  ?"  asked  ]Mr.  IMorgan,  in  a  low 
voice,  and  with  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  shall  be  in  a  few  moments."  She  spoke  a  few  words 
to  the  sick  woman,  bade  her  ard  Sarah  farewell,  and  left 
the  cottage,  followed  by  Mr.  INiorgan. 

« I  hope  you  know  how  to  dye  yarn,"  ho  said,  as  soon 
as  thoy  were  out  of  sight  of  the  cottage,  laughing  heartily. 
"  I  shall  have  to  repeat  that  recipe  for  Ida's  edification." 

Aldeanc  laughed,  and  then  said  gravely,  "  I  fear  old 
granny  will  soon  die !" 

"  Yes,"  returned  Mr.  Morgan,  "  she  is  sinking  fast,  over- 
come with  the  infirmities  of  old  age.  Ibit  perhaps  Uie 
grave  will  be  to  her  the  entrance  into  a  glorious  life." 

"  I  believe  so,  indeed,"  returned  Aldeanc :  and  then 
they  talked  of  death  as  something  very  dreadful,  and 
very  near  at  hand,  as  young  people  sometimes  do,  even 
when  it  seems  utterly  impossible  that  it  should  come  to 
them,  and  this  led  them  to  speak  of  other  partings- 
earthly  partings  ;— and  of  the  changes  which  often  pre- 
vented the  meeting  of  friends  who  had  separated  under 
oven  most  promising  circumstances ;  and  Aldeanc  remem- 
bering his  parting  from  his  father,  and  attributing  the 
increasing  sadness  of  his  tone  to  that,  sympathized  with 
him  deeply,  until  all  feeling  for  others  was  swept  away 
by  a  new  feeling,  as  he  said :  '.'  And  speaking  of  partings, 
Miss  Guthrie,  do  you  know  that  I  shall  leave  for  Boston 
in  a  few  days  ?" 

She  felt  that  she  could  not  speak,  that  her  voice  would 
utterly  fail  her,  yet  fearing  to  attract  his  attention  by 
silence,  she  faintly  murmured :  "  Shall  you,  indeed !" 

He  looked  at'her,  oh,  so  strangely— that  her  heart 
fluttered  wildly  even  while  she  dared  not  hope  his  words 


I  Aldoanc,  sc.ircoly 

I  thorn  colors  will 

'orn  out." 

.  IMorEtan,  in  a  low 

I  his  oyos. 

•  spoke  a  few  words 
h  farewell,  and  left 

11,"  ho  said,  as  soon 
',  langhinp;  heartily. 
r  Ida's  edification." 
ravely,  "  I  fear  old 

is  sinking  fast,  over- 
IJut  perhaps  the 

a  glorious  life." 
Aldeanc:  and  then 
very  dreadful,  and 
sometimes  do,  even 

it  should  come  to 
if  other  partings — 
?s  which  often  pre- 
ad  separated  under 
md  Aldeane  remem- 
md  attributing  the 
t,  sympathized  with 
rs  was  swept  away 
peaking  of  partings, 
vU  leave  for  Boston 

hat  her  voice  would 
ct  his  attention  by 

II  you,  indeed !" 

ly — that    her  heart 
I  not  hope  his  words 


A  LDEANE. 


110 


would  bo  other  than  they  wore.     "Yos,Iam  tired   of 

' '^'    m'  \  ""'•"     '"'•^^"'>'  '^^•^•"^'  P-sionatelv 

iiod  help  me,  I  must  go !" 

"And  you  f..el  sorry  to  leave  us?"  she  asked   scarce 
knowing  what  she  said.  ' 

an'i  ?!''  '^V'""'  •'  ^^''^'*'"'  '  ^'''^  ''  t"'^"'-^."  he  exclaimed 
and  then  he  compressed  his  lips  as  if  in  toiTor  at  the' 
unguarded  utterance. 
She  glanced  at  him  in  trembiinr:  surprise,  and  was 

me?  W  '  'T"'"^  '"  ^''  endeavoring  to  compose 

h.mselt  by  bracmg  his  muscles,  clinching  his  teeth   and 
b.tmg    .s  shapely  nails  back  to  the  vcrv'quick.  '      ' 

Oh  !  would  to  (Jod  that  he  suffered  this  for  me  for  I 
ove  h,m!  I  We  him!"  was   the  voiceless   cr^oV  her 
.oart.     "But  oh!  this  agony  is  not  forme!      'mlt 
Loonore  he  loves,  and  why  not  ?    She  is  good  and  beau- 
^u;   no  real   relationship  exists   between  them      OM 
J^.h>^  l.as  th,s   come   upon  me?  for  I  love  him-I  love 

chJnLn""i"^  """  impetuously,  .vhile  Mr.  Morgan  me- 
an.cally  kept  pace  with  her.  Her  brain  seemed  on 
MO  and  her  heart  tI„-oSbed  wildly.  They  reached  the 
bndge ;  overcome  by  her  emotion/  she  could  r^  ted  no 
farther,  but  leaned  against  the  .„:H„g  for  support  Mr 
Morgan,  glancing  at  her,  saw  the  weary  En  n  i 
b,„T,mg  cheek;  his  lips  parted  as  if  taspe^ak,  he  n,rne 

mertl  iT      •'  ;'''  "  '"•»'  ^'^'^  '-  ^'^-'^-^  *'-  -o  -e 
ment  and  hun-iod  away. 

Despair  laid  his  hand  upon  Aldeane's  heart  •  she  did 

In  k'r  z:7 ''  ;"*  r^^  ''--^  ^^  ^""'^'  -^' '  '^-^ 

Not  long  did  she  remain  there.     When  Mr.  Morc^an 
had  disappeared  she  went  ea-r,.rlv  wildiv  in  fhTr 
.iou  of  .he  „„,«o.     IT,«„  rcacMng  i;:S;:;',',:'4t: 


120 


ALDEAXB. 


tho  stahs  to  her  own  room.     In  the  upper  hall  she  met 
T.oonoro,  who  a.skcd,  "  How  is  (Iranny  ?"' 

"  WoiRi',"  sho  rrplii'il,  passing  tho  inquirer  wifli  a  feel- 
in'j;  of  repugnance,  ahnost  deepening  into  hatred  in  hir 
lii^irt.  Le<more  turned  in  surprise  at  the  she.rt  answer; 
but  Aldeane  had  disappeared,  and  tlie  closing  of  her  door 
loudly,  and  the  harsh  grating  of  the  key  in  the  lock, 
<lenoted  that  she  did  not  wish  to  he  disturbed.  Leonorc 
passed  on  wondering  wiiat  had  hai)pi'ned.  She  remem- 
bered the  flushed  cheeks  an<l  burning  eyes.  "  It  must  be 
something  of  great  importance,"  she  thought,  but  could 
not  imagine  what. 

Aldeane  ])acing  her  apartment  rapidly,  felt  in  her  iii- 
niost  soul  what  despairing  love  was.  "  Oh  !  that  1  cmild 
die  now  !  Oh  !  that  I  should  bo  passed  by  for  Leonorc— 
Leonore,  who  loves  him  not."  Soon  her  frame  became 
exhausted  with  this  passionate  energy  of  thought  and 
action.  IJurning  thoughts  passed  through  her  mind, 
searing  their  impress  upon  her  heart.  Tearless  she  stood 
at  her  window,  and  saw  ^Ir.  Morgan  and  Leonore,  arm- 
in-ai-m,  i>ass  beneath;  with  a  cry  of  anguish  she  threw 
herself  upon  the  bed  to  sob  tearlessly.  Her  mind  and 
heart  seeme<l  striving  to  break  their  bonds.  She  prayed 
to  die  e'er,  by  any  untoward  action,  she  betrayed  this 
agonizing  love,  that  racked  her  being,  and  the  jealousy 
that  was  maddening  her.  With  the  gray  shadows  of 
evening  came  cilmer  thoughts,  and  better.  Kneeling, 
she  prayed  for  strength  and  consolation,  as  she  had 
never  petitioned  before.  She  arose  comforted,  and  with 
relief-giving  tears  coui-sing  over  her  cheeks.  She  was 
unable  to  appear  at  the  tea-table,  but  later  in  the 
evening  entered  the  parlor.  All  seemed  inuch  concerned 
at  her  pallor  and  evident  suflering.  Mrs.  Arendell 
mentioned  many  remedies  for  severe  headache,  under 
which  they  supposed  she  suftered ;  but  Mr.  jMorgan, 
Aldeane  thouglit,  greeted  her  Avith  a  peculiar  expression 


of  in 

aske 

quid 

\>y  I. 

Hh 

rooir 

rie's 

have 

cure 

W 

answ 

Slie  c 

guess 

jestii 

Th 

annoi 

morn 

Anni( 

woulc 

himsc 

shouh 

opinic 

<lepar 

that  i 

from  t 

music 

she  wi 

gained 

with  V 

more  ( 

She 

that  tl 

Leono; 

suspiei 

evideu 

j>rolon. 


I  per 


Imll  she  ?:U't 


fiuircr  witii  a  focl- 
nto  hatrwl  in  hi-r 
lie  short  answer; 
D^iiig  of  her  iloor 
key  in  the  lock, 
turlu'd.  Loonorc 
10(1.  She  renn'ni- 
VC'S,  "  It  must  be 
longht,  but  could 

(Uy,  felt  in  her  in- 
()h!  that  I  could 
I  by  for  Leonore — 
ler  frame  became 
Y  of  thought  and 
rough  her  mind, 
Tearless  she  stood 
ind  Leouore,  arm- 
iiguish  she  threw 
.  Her  mind  and 
)nd8.  She  prayed 
she  betrayed  this 
,  and  the  jealousy 
gray  shadows  of 
better.  Kneeling, 
ition,  as  she  had 
mforted,  and  with 
cheeks.  She  was 
but  later  in  the 
?d  inuch  concerned 
r.  Mrs.  Arendell 
!  headache,  under 
bvit  Mr.  iSIorgan, 
lecidiar  expression 


ALDEANE. 


121 


of  interest  and  sympathy.  "  Has  lie  guessed  my  secret  ?" 
asked  her  licart,  throbbing  wildly.  The  rej-iy  camo 
quickly,  "  Xo ;  but  he  has  discovered  that  he  is  not  loved 
by  Leonore !" 

She  excused  herself  at  an  early  hour.  As  she  left  the 
room,  she  heard  Mrs.  Arendell  say,  "  Fred,  Miss  (iuth- 
ne's  health  has  been  miserable  of  late.  I  believe,  I  shall 
have  to  send  her  North  with  you  !  Perhaps  that  would 
cure  her." 

With  her  foot  upon  the  stairs,  Aldeane  listened  for  his 
answer,  but  it  came  not,  and  with  a  sigh  she  passed  on. 
She  did  not  see  the  spasm  that  contorted  his  features,  nOr 
guess  the  agony  that  made  his  heart  stand  still  at  the 
jesting  M-ords. 

The  next  morning  at  the  breakfast-table,  Mr.  Morgan 
announced  his  intention  of  returning  to  Boston  on  the 
morrow,  giving   as   his   reasons,  that   his   mother   and 
Annie  Greyson    having  retunied   to   Morganvale,  they 
would  consider  him   n<>glectful,  if  he   longer  absented 
himself;  and  also,  that   it  was  positively  time  that  he 
should  commence  the  practice  of  his  profession.     In  these 
opinions  all  concurred,  and  an  early  day  was  set  for  his 
departure.     Before  any  one  could  notice  the  agitation, 
that  it  was  impossible  for  Aldeane  to  conceal,  she  arosi' 
from  the  table,  reminded  Leonore  that  it  was  time  f<.r  her 
music  lesson,  and  left  the  room.     It  was  some  time  before 
she  was  joined  by  her  pupil,  and  in  the  interval,  she  had 
gained  strength  to  quell  the  angry  an«f  jealous  thoughts 
with  which  she  regarded  her,  and  gave  her  instructTons 
more  silently,  but  as  amiably  as  usual. 

She  thought  she  perceived,  what  Mas  doubtless  t ■  ie, 
that  the  thought  she  held  concerning  Mr.  Morgan  and' 
Leonore,  had  presented  itself  to  other  minds,  .hikI  to  a 
suspicion  of  its  truth,  she  attributed  Mrs.  Arendell's 
evident  pleasure,  that  her  brother's  visit  was  not  to  be 
prolonged,  and  the  colonel,  who  was  not  apt  to  conceal 
r. 


V2-2 


ALD  i:an  ic. 


what  was  passing  in  his  min.l,  more  than  onco  uttowl 
lau^rhinr'  objections  to  the  long  walks  which  tlif  twain 
took  togetller,  saying  tliey  wouhl  fancy  themselves 
cousins,  or  perhaps  mere  strangers  by  and  by.  Morgan 
was  too  agreeable  by  half,  to  be  the  uncle  of  a  pretty 

young  lady. 

All  this  in  jest  to  Mrs.  Arendell  and  Aldeane,  yet 
the  latter  at  least  ianeied  there  Avas  a  deep  vein  of 
earnestness  in  what  he  said,  and  thought  it  indeed  so 
lon<'  and  constantly,  that  her  jealousy  gave  ].lace  to 
pitv,  and  had  it  been  possible,  she  would  gladly  have 
destroyed  the  bond  of  connection,  if  not  relationship, 
which 'she  supposed  alone  prevented  Frederic  Morgan 
from  asking  the  hand  of  Leonore  in  marriage. 


! 


I: 


E 

snec 

wlio 

niigl 

opp( 

by  a 

III 

ofler 

he  a 

she  a 

face 

distn 

Ila 

wild 

very 

inter\ 

nantl; 

tion  o 

ing  hi 

she  ha 

Oh, 

was  01 

into   t 

stoppe 

soon  a 

Thei 


Iian  onco  utti'ivil 
which  tlif  twain 
laucy  thciuselvos 
and  by.  ^Morgan 
uui'lc  of  a  pirtty 

md   Aldcanc,  yot 

!i  diH-j)  vein    of 

ight  it  iudeod  so 

y   pjivve   ]thvcc   to 

ouUl  gladly  have 

not  relationship, 

Frederic  Morgan 

irriago. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

A   SECOND   8KCRET   TOLD. 

DuRiXG  this  time,  Aldeano  was  still  occasionally  pur- 
sued by  the  distasteful  attentions  of  the  ex-ovfrsee 
who  al  hough  he  sel.loM,  adverted  to  any  knowled-^e  he 
nnght^have  of  her  antecedents,  did  not  fail  upon  every 
opportunity  to  represent  the  advantages  she  w^uld  gain 
by  an  alliance  with  him.  ^ 

often  that  an  opportunity  to  do  so  presented  itself,  but 
he  apparently  dogged   her  footsteps'when    abroad    a. 

Mce  Bhould  peer  in  upon  her,  and  his  sinister  eyes  bring 

distrust  and  terror  to  her  soul.  ^ 

Ilanng  one  atU-rnoon  gone  up  the  river  to  search  for 

^Mld   flowers,  she  met  her  persecutor  almost  upon  the 

■"Z;r  "'T'  '-^'f  ^'  ^  "'^^•-'"""^  ^'^^"•fi'-^*  'nemoi-ablc 

a. XT;-  '"?  '"  ''"^'^^  '"  '"^  ""'  ^°-'  ^hen  indig- 
nantly refusing  to  answer  him,  she  turned  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  house,  and  walked  hurriedly  away  command 

she  had  taken,  left  him  no  alternative  but  to  obey 

Oh,  how  hateful  this  pursuit  was  to  her!  When  she 
was  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  her  tormentor,  she  burst 
into  tears  and  sobbed  aloud  that  "this  should  be 
i^topped  she  would  call  Colonel  Arendell  to  her  aid  as 
soon  as  Mr.  Morgan  was  gone."  ' 

There  was  a  rustling  in  the  bushes,  tliey  parted,  and 


124 


ALDEANE. 


the  person  she  had  last  named,  gun  in  hand,  and  w..li  .i 
Htrins  of  birds  at  his  belt,  stood  before  her, 

"llrdon  me,  Aideane,"  he  naid  in  great  agitation, 
before  .he  could  recover  from  the  surprise  and  dismay 
into  which  his  unexpected  presence  ^^;^^^;^ 
"Pardon  mc,  Aideane,  I  was  just  now  the  un>villing 
spectator  of  a  scene  which  seemed  to  distress  you 
gSy  Aideane,  my  soul  recoils  from  the^  indignity 
fvint  WIS  offered  vou— you,  my  love,  my  own. 
'  lirltgB  h'd  apparently  mastered  his  discretion 
for  with  but  one  glanJe  at  the  joy  which  revealed  itself 
in  hefface,  he  tur^ned  from  her,  and  hid  his  face  m  his 

^''Aideane  was  motionless  from  very  joy  He  loved  her 
_„o  Leonore,  but  her  very  self.  She  looked  at  him 
with  burning  blushes,  and  unconsciously  his  name  tell 

'TetS-to  her  then,  with  a  passion  she  could  not 
mistake  Yes,  he  loved  her.  But  these  were  not  the 
Ws  he  said.  No,  he  threw  himself  at  her  feet,  praying 
C  tgivene^s,  wildly  telling  her  that  she  had  won  his 
heart,  while  his  hand  was  promised  to  another. 

Sh^  had  not  told  him  that  she  loved  Inm      Even  m 
the  aconv  his  words  brought  her  she  remembered  that, 
and  yet?he  knew  it,  and  bdieving  that,  all  her  pnde  fled, 
and  she  leaned  against  a  tree  and  wept  bitterly. 
^Itinstantbfstoodbesideher.     "Aideane,    he^^^^^^^^ 
"whom  I  have  so  unhappily  deceived,  whom  I  broughv 
fortifrom  your  haughty  reserve,  out  of  mere  idleness 
to  such  a  bluer  end  as  this,  believe  me,  uiitd  now  I  have 
not  ktwn  my  own  heart  else,  ^od  ^7^;^, -"^^^^ 
so  bitterly  have  wounded  yours.     And  yet,    he  addea, 
eaX'' P-^«P«  >'-  1-ve  guessed-perhaps  you  know 
T  am  encaced  to  marry  Annie  CTi-eyson. 

"Cle^Greyson!  'Annie  Greyson!"     she  repeated, 
vacantly.     "  Your  pretty  cousin." 


yoi 

kn< 

lov 

She 

disi 

disc 

dari 

thill 

pria 

did 

Anr 

love 

now 

A 

and 

the 

« 

"wh 

with 

of  B 

instr 

appo 

gage 

the  8 

"I 

her  h 

"I 

not  s 

heart 

'You 

fidani 

hirase 

never 

heart 

"T( 


ALDEANE. 


hand,  and  wiUi  a 
her. 

great  agitation, 
prise  and  dismay 
had  thrown  hi-r. 
)W  the   unwilling 

to  distress  you 
om  the  indignity 
y  own." 

■cd  his  discretion, 
ich  revealed  itself 
lid  his  face  in  his 

joy.  He  loved  her 
he  looked  at  him 
usly  his  name  fell 

ion  she  could  not 
hese  were  not  the 
at  her  feet,  praying 
at  she  had  won  his 
»  another. 

ved  him.    Even  in 
e  remembered  that, 
It,  all  her  pride  fled, 
pt  bitterly. 
'  Aldeane,"  he  cried, 
;d,  whom  I  brought 
It  of  mere  idleness, 
ae,  until  now  I  have 
knows,  1  would  not 
md  yet,"  he  added, 
—perhaps  you  know 
on." 
on !" 


135 


she   repeated. 


Yes,  my  pretty  cousin,"  he  echoed  bitterly     "Can 
you  not  guess,  Aldeane,  how  it  was  brought  about-vou 
know  I  never  loved  her-but  my  father  did.     He  hul 
loved  her  mother,  they  say,  long  before  he  married  mine 
bhe  was  his  cousin,  so  you  see  his  ward  Annie,  is  but  a 
distant   relation   to   me.     Before   I  left   for  Europe  he 
disclosed  to  me  a  notable  plan  for  enriching  his  pretty 
darling     I  was  to  marry  her.    I  jestingly  told  him  I  would 
think  of  It,  and  upon  the  same  day,  I  remember,  appro- 
priated your  portrait  which  Miss  Ashton  showed  me      I 
did  not  mean  then,  Aldeane,  to  be  false  either  to  you  or 
Annie.     I  did  not  even  know  then,  that  it  was  you   I 
loved  though  my  God,  with  what  bitterness  I  know  it 
now.  ' 

Aldeane  was  by  this  time  listening  to  him  tearlessly, 
and  with  all  her  powers  of  attention  concentrated  upon 
the  simple  tale  he  told.  ^ 

"I  had  scarcely  reached  England,"  he  continued, 
when  news  of  my  father's  death  reached  mr  together 
with  a  letter  which  he  directed  to  be  sent  to  me,  in  case 
of  such  an  event  suddenly  taking  place.  Therein  he 
mstructed  me  to  remain  in  Europe  the  time  he  had 
appointed,  and  begged  me  to  enter  at  once  into  an  en- 
gagement of  marriage  with  Annie  Greyson,  and  to  fulfil] 
the  same  immediately  upon  my  return  to  America  " 

I  understand,"  said  Aldeane,  in  a  low  voice,  pressing 
her  hand  upon  her  heart.     "  You  were  an  obedient  son." 

not  snot  '".T/'i  !f ''"  '"^'^  ^^'-  ^^°'-g«»'  ^«  if  «be  had 
not  spoken  "I  did  not  trouble  myself  to  search  my 
heart,  and  failed  to  read  its  secrets  at  a  single  <rlance 
Your  cousin  will  make  an  estimable  wife,'  said  my  eon- 
hdant  George  Raymond.  I  suggested  that  he  loved  her 
himself,  but  he  replied,  in  his  old  way,  that  he  should 
never  marry  Therefore  I  wrote,  offering  my  hand,  and 
heart  too,  I  think,  to  my  cousin,  and  was  accepted." 
Tell  me  no  more,"  said  Aldeane,  turning  toward  him 


126 


ALDEANE. 


suddenly,  with  pale  and  rcHolute  laco.     "  You  have  P&id 
too  nnich  already;  you  are  to  marry  your  cousin." 

"  No '"  he  exelaimed,  i)assi()nately,  "  she  loves  me  no 
more  than  I  do  her.  Aldeane,  I  love  yo.i,  madly.  Bo 
ray  wife— the  wife  of  a  poor  man;  for  I  wdl  Rive  up  all 
my  property  to  Annie  Gveyson,  and  entreat  her  to  release 

me."  .  ,  „,,  . 

A  sudden  hope  darted  into  Aldeane's  heart.  1  his  con- 
templated marriage,  this  union  of  strangers,  might  be  as 
obnoxious  to  Annie  Greyson  as  to  Frederic  :Morgan  him- 
self Was  it  not  right  that  he  should  otter  her  her  iree- 
dora ;  and,  upon  such  generous  terms,  would  she  not 
accept  it?  And  so,  when  he  repeat  d,  again  and  again, 
"  Woal.1  you  marry  me-a  poor  man?"  she  sank  into  his 
arms  and  whispered,  "  Yes." 

But  in  an  instant  she  remembered  that  he  was  not 
free  and  tore  herself  from  his  embrace,  and  entreated 
liim'to  remember  it  also,  to  be  himself  generous  and  hon- 
orable, that  she  might  have  strength  to  act  generously 
and  honorably  also. 

And  then,  as  he  poured  forth  a  thousand  assurances 
thac  Annie  did  not  love  him,  that  she  would  gladly  r^ 
lease  him,  there  came  upon  her  a  conviction  that  she  would 
not  do  so ;  that  the  pretty,  frivolous  doll,  would  hold  him 
to  his  engagement;  that  she  would,  at  all  hazards,  gain 
the  height  of  her  ambition  by  becoming  the  mistress  ot 
Moro-anvale,  as  the  wife  of  its  possessor. 

This  Aldeane  said  to  him,  not  ungenerously,  but  im- 
putincr  to  Annie  Greyson  such  motives  as  might  rule  even 
anobte-heartedwoman;  and  while  she  did  not  combat 
his  intention  of  asking  his  release  from  liis  engagement, 
for  both  heart  and  mind,  as  much  for  Annie  Greyson  s 
sake  as  for  their  own,  approved  of  tl.at,  she  insisted  her 
name  should  not  be  mentioned,  and  that  it  should  not  be 
even  implied  that  he  was  loved  by  another;  that  Annie 
Greyson's  cronerosity  should  be  asked  for  himself  alone; 


\ 


whi( 

"A! 

ish  A 

you 

Sli 

to  hi 

voii 

("lo. 

pure] 

hono 

lie 

"Thi 

deani 

mine 

".A 

to  Iiii 

eric,  i 

grief! 

He 

and  1 

wavw 

She 

the  i\( 

keep  ( 

lier  h( 


ALD  EA  XE. 


127 


You  have  said 
r  cousin." 
ho  loves  mc  no 
on,  niiully.  Bo 
rtill  ^ivo  up  all 
It  ht-r  to  release 

leart.  This  con- 
ers,  niitiht  be  as 
vie  Morgan  hini- 
fer  her  her  frcc- 
would  she  not 
sain  and  arrain, 
she  sank  into  his 

hat  he  was  not 
L',  and  entreated 
pnerous  and  hon- 

0  act  generously 

isand  assurances 
would  gladly  re- 
an  that  she  would 
,  would  hold  hira 
all  hazards,  gain 
;  the  mistress  of 

nerously,  but  im- 

s  might  rule  even 

did  not  combat 

1  liis  engagement, 
■  Annie  Greyson's 
;,  she  insisted  her 
t  it  should  not  be 
3ther ;  that  Annie 
for  himself  alone ; 


and  not  even  f-.r  liimself  if  it  should  appear  that  she  h>  i- 
self  loved  him. 

"Xo,  I  will  tell  her  the  truth;'  replied  Frederic  Mor- 
gan, agam  and  again.  "1  will  irjve  her  my  wealth  aii.l 
toil  for  you,  my  darling,      Vou  will  net  be  afraid  '•'"' 

"Afraid  !  with  himV"  she  .11,1  „„t  speak,  but  her  eves 
revealed  to  ]„„,  the  in.p.iry  of  lu^r  heart,  an.l  its  cnfideut 
reply.  I5ut  when  she  spoke,  it  was  onlv  to  soft Iv  say 
iarewell,  ai.d  that  she  had  no  hope,  "FoV  you,  I  know, 
will  do  as  I  have  asked — no  more." 

"Al.leane,"  he   exHainu'd,   su.ldenlv,  with  a  despair 
which  revealed  to  her  that  his  opiui.ms  were  like  hers 
Aldeane,  why  will  you  not  suffer  me  to  break  inv  fool- 
ish v.nv  'i     She  does  not  love  me,  and  I  shall  die  without 
you !" 

She  looked  at  him  a  moment,  as  lie  clasped  luu-  hands 
to  his  breast  and  uttered  these  wild  entreaties-  "Hove 
you  now,"  sh,.  said.  "  I  should  not  tell  you  so,  but  I 
<lo.  I  love  you,— no,  do  not  touch  mc— but  I  can  not 
purchase  happiness  at  the  price  of  hers  or  of  your  dis- 
Jionor. 

lie  pressed  his  hands  over  his  face,  and  groaned  aloud. 
IhoM  there  is  no  hope,"  he  muttered.     "Aldeane  I  Al- 
deane! I  will  do  as  you  have  said,  but  mine  will  bo  a 
ruined  lite." 

"And  what  of  mine?"  sLe  asked  herself,  wildly;  but 
to  him  she  only  said,  "You  will  not  write  to  me  Fred- 
eric it  this  is  our  farewell.  You  will  spare  me  further 
gnet!' 

He  caught  her  in  his  arms ;  but  she  tore  Iierself  awav 
and  rushed  from  the  place,  fearing  to  stay,  fearin-  her 
wayward  heart,  fearing  him.  "' 

She  hastened  to  tiie  house,  and  to  her  own  chamber, 
the  door  ot  which  she  locked  and  barred,  doublv  ea-er  t«> 
keep  out  any  chance  intruder.  She  liad  not  takeifwith 
her  hope;  she  was  quite  certain  that  this  love  she  leid 


128 


ALDEANE. 


won  would  bo  cluimod  by  another;  and  throwing  htr- 
Hclf  upon  hor  bed,  sho  wept  ««<•!.  toars,  and  broatJ^c-d  Buch 
praycrK,  an  man  novo,  hcch,  or  hoarH,  and  the  oniniHcient 
(iod  but  soldom,  even  though  to  Him  all  agony  « 
known. 


1\ 
Mo 

tlic 
and 
tea  I 
])arl 
thai 

bof,' 
the 

UHSU 
ligh 

in  s 

pera 

was 

offoi 

grac 

Loui 

liopt 

Bang 

befo 

feigr 

tlie  t 

thfit 

wht'i 

excit 

The 

brou 


1(1,  throwinpt  her- 
Au\  l)rcat)n'(l  Buch 
nil  the  oinniHcient 
im   all   agony  is 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


DOUirr   IIKCOMKH    CKItTAINTY. 

Mits.  AiiK.NDKi.i.  Imtl  invited  a  fow  fric ii.ls  to  meet  Mr, 
I\r<»rgjin  that  ivoninir,  it  Ix-iiii,'  the  last  «>t'  IiIh  stay  with 
tlicin.     Althoii<j;h  Ald.anc   hrid    hasfcncl   to  her  room, 
and  passt'd  tho  last  hours  of  day  in  jrn .f  too  dcrj.  for 
tears,  she  know  that  hor  i)r..'sc'nci' would  !)•*(•  vpcctcd  in  the 
l)arlor;  so,  after  iierforiuin<jf  a  far  more  elaborate  toilet 
than  usual,  she  repaired  thitlier,  as  the   company  were 
beginning  to  arrive.     Mr.  Morgan  was  there,  receiving 
the    guests   with   what   Aldeane    readily   saw   was   an 
assumed  gayety.     JVlrs.  Arendeil  and  Leonore  were  de- 
lighted at  his  gay  sallies  and  (piick  repartees,  and  joined 
in  speaking  of  his  happy  disposition  and  cloudless  tem- 
perament to  her  who  knew,  too  well,  that. all  his  mirth 
was  feigned.     Following   Ins   ox.imple,  with   a   violent 
effort,  she,  too,  became  unusually  merry,  replying  most 
graciously  to  the   compliments  of  Mr.  IJlake   ami   Mr. 
Lounsbcrry,  raising  in  the  bosoms   of  both  gentlemen 
hopes  doomed   to   be   most   cruelly  disajipointed.     She 
sang  more  sweetly,  and  played  more  brilliantly  than  ever 
before,   almost   deceiving   Mr.   Morgan   with    her  well- 
feigned  gayety.     They  appeared  to  be  the  happiest  of 
tlie  throng,  imparting  mirth  and  joyousness  to  all,  while 
their  hearts  were  dying  within  them.     At  a  late  hour, 
when  they  had  gone  to  their  apartments,  this  feverish 
excitement   i)assed,  and   a  night  of  unrest   succeeded. 
The  dawn  was  welcomed  eagerly  by  bolii,  for  though  it 
brought  the  doom  of  parting,  even  that  was  better  than 


130 


A  I.DEA  SE. 


to  111'  ncnr  oii",  whom  'twas  (tin,  yot  impoHMihlp,  not  to 

li»V(>. 

AftiT  !iii  iiirly  bronkfast,  tlif  family  all  eallicrcil  upon 
tlui  front  poirli,  to  mv  Mr.  Morgan  otf.  I  lis  adioiis  to 
all  were  atfcclionatf,  and  at  1m>I  he  luriifd  to  AliU'ano, 
who  liant  avjainst  a  pillar,  lircatlilisH  ami  Itarliss.  Slic 
Haw  tliat  lit'  wan  vory  pale,  t'lat  pannionato  love  lioaiiictl 
in  his  I'ycs.  lie  took  hi'r  ncrvch'sn  hand  in  his  fevered 
one,  and  endeavorid  to  speak,  hut  words  catne  nut. 
Then  pressing  her  elosely  to  his  wildly  liealim;  heart, 
with  his  eyes,  full  of  love  and  despair,  tixecl  upon  hers,  ho 
kissed  her  lips  passionately,  once — twice — then  leaving 
her  half  faintinix,  veiled  away,  leapt  into  the  carriage, 
in  which  Colomd  Arendell  was  waiting;  the  impatient 
horses  sprans?  forward,  and  in  a  moment  they  were  jjone. 

Ahlcane  watched  his  (h'partiire  Avith  tearless  eyes,  and 
M\  ajjonizL'd  dcspairin<;f  i/Iance,  as  if  her  last  earthly  joy 
Avas  heinji  tossed  on  foa'iiini^  hillows,  and  borne  far  away 
I'roni  her  si.tjht,  to  ho  buried  in  the  fathomless  ocean  of 
otornity.  As  the  carWai^e,  with  its  chorishcd  occupant, 
sped  from  licr  sijjht,  the  over-strnnj^  tension  of  lier 
nervoH  gave  way,  and  with  a  low  moan  of  ])ain,  sho 
throw  liorself  uj)on  a  chair  at  Loonoro's  side,  who  liiend- 
ing  over  her,  exclaimed : — 

".Afamma!  mamma!  Miss  Akioanc  is  fainting !  Site  is 
very  -rck!" 

Mrs.  Arendell  had  boon  somewhat  surprised  at  the 
strange  jiarting  between  lier  governess  and  her  brother, 
thouq;h  sho  had  not  noticeil  the  agonized  exi)resHion  upon 
the  faces  of  both.  She  had, 'liowover,  dismissed  the 
matter  vi'b  the  *hought,  "'Tis  only  Fred's  nonsense, 
and  they  arc  suoli  oM  friends,  of  course  there  is  nothing 
in  his  kissing  her.  One  can  never  account  for  half  of 
Fred's  deeds/' 

At  Loonoro's  exclamation  slie  turned,  and  was  much 
alarmed  to  see  Aldeano  apparently  very  ill. 


•1! 

ca 
ho 
pil 
nil 
Tl 
foi 

wt 

till 
lo( 
uhi 
for 
the 
All 
thi 
he. 
left 
•  let 
the 
the 

.Sh( 
hat 
fesf 
rias 
wh( 
ni>c 
Htrt 
i'ani 
and 
(loo 

<'XOi 

sani 
gatl 
sivc 


mpoMHiblp,  not  to 

ill  u'litlicriil  upon 
!!'.  IIIm  adiiMis  to 
iriii'il  to  Alilr.ini', 
.ml  Ifiirli'ss.  She 
ii.it*'  love  Ik'IUIkmI 
mil  ill  iiis  I'cvi  Till 
wonU  ('Utile  iiut. 
ly  licatim;  licart, 
ixi'il  iipoii  Iktm,  Iil' 
ice — tlu'ii  Icavintj 
iito  lli(>  oarriaiic, 
i<I ;  tlic  iiiipatii'iit 
it  tlu-ywiTc  jx""<'. 
tearless  eyes,  and 
r  last  earthly  joy 
1(1  l)oriie  lar  away 
hornless  ocean  of 
lerishcd  oecu|iaiit, 
t^  tension  of  lier 
loan  of  jiain,  who 
8  side,  M'ho  bend- 


)  fainting !     She  m 


surprised  at  tlie 
s  and  her  brother, 
(1  expression  upon 
pr,   dismissed    the 

Fred's  nonsense, 
e  there  is  nothiiii; 
;;count  for  half  of 

ed,  and  was  much 
•V  ill. 


ALDKAXr:. 


181 


"U  hat  is  the  matter,  AldeaneV"  ^,|„.  („kod,  anxiouslv. 
I  nele  Adam  uas  passing..     Obeyinj,'  Mrs.  Arend.dl''* 
directions,  he  lilted  Aldeaiu'  as  if  she  were  an  inliint.  ai-d 
carried  her  to  her  ehaiiiber.     Ki„d  hands  soon  disr'nl.ed 
her,  and  lii"ioiiu'hly exhausted,  she  sank  upon  the  dowtiv 
pillows  (.f  her  cdiieh.     For  days  the  ronm  was  darkened', 
and  Zettie,  with  noiseless  feel',  Wiiited  iipnn  the  siilleivr.' 
The  <l..etor  proiioiiiice.l   her  illness  to  be  a  ln\v  iiervouH 
fever,  aii.l  re,.,„ninendc.|  prrfccl  ,,iii,.|.     Ills  instructi<.ns 
>yere  obeyed,  and    lliiee   weeks  aflerward,  for  Ihe  first 
time,  she  was  taken  in  an  easy  chair  to  the  window,  ami 
looked  lan-rnidly  o.il  upon  the  scene,  which  lia<l   i,'ivatly 
ehaiiLCed  diiiiiiLt  her  illness.     .Suiiiiner  had   passecC     Tlio 
Jbresis  had  donned  their  autumnal  jxarb,  and  swayed  in 
the   cool    bive/.i'S    that    heral.l   il„.  approach   of  winter. 
Aldeane   siurhed   as   she  tlioii,i,'lit  of  the   dreary   winter 
that  was  stealinj;  the  freshneHH  and  joy  thus  <'arly  from 
her  life;    but  she  felt  that  there  was  still  some  beauty 
left,  aii'l    beaiiii!.'   the  soft  tints  of  love,  but  the  mor'e 
ileeided  one  of  life's  r.'.ility.     Daily  after  this  she  sat  at 
the  window  Icarniiii,'  lessons  of  cmtentment ;   appiyin;; 
the   b;ilm  of  heavenly  consolation  to  her  bruised  heart' 
She  had  heard  that  Mr.  .Mor-,'aii  had  reached  home,  and 
had  Ilia. le  preparations  to  bejiin  the  jiractice  of  his  pro- 
fession.     She   ha<l   heard   nothiiii;  of  his  proposed  mar- 
riacce,  and  wondered  if  it  would  indeed  take   j)lace,  and 
when  she  would  be  calle.l  upon  to  lay  her  heart's'  idol 
upon  the  altar  of  sacritice.     One  day  feeliiiL;  uiiiisii:illy 
stronjr,  and  h.'ivintj:  a  stroiijr  desire  to  min.;;'le  with  the 
family;  she  slijiped  out  of  her  room,  in  Zettie's  absence, 
and  astonished  them  by  appearin<x  at   the  sittin<>-voom 
door.     Colonel  Areiidell   spraiitr  forward,  and   with   a;i 
exclamation  of  pleased  surjirise,  led  her  to  a  seat,  at  tli.- 
same  time  pushiii!;  away  the  children,  m'Iio  would  have 
<j;atliei>'d  voiind  her.     :Mrs.  Areiidell  was  very  aiiprelieii- 
sive  that  slie  had  done  wrona:,  yet  was  jjreatly  pleased  to 


'"■  "!>'■■  i 


132 


ALDEANE. 


have  her  once  more  with  them.  The  children  were 
allowed  to  kiss  her  once,  then  playfully,  but  decisively 
turned  out  of  the  room  by  Colonel  Arendell,  that  ihe  might 
have  quietness,  Leonore  shook  up  the  sofa-cushions, 
and  arranged  them  invitingly,  and  overcome  by  exertion, 
Aldeane  sank  gratefully  upon  them. 

"  I  believe,"  said  Colonel  Arendell,  offering  her  glass 
of  wine,  "  that  wo  shall  have  to  send  you  North  for  a 
change." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  shall  remain  here.  I  shall  soon  be  well," 
she  answered,  quickly. 

"  Well,  as  you  please,  my  dear ;  I  am  glad  you  are  so 
contented.  I  don't  believe  you  have  been  long  reconciled 
to  this  life." 

"  John,"  interposed  Mrs.  Arendell,  reprovingly,  "  you 
know  that  if  Aldeane  has  rather  imprudently  ventured 
down,  that  she  is  far  from  w^ell.  We  must  not  let  her 
talk  too  much  |  she  can  listen  to  us,  but  not  exert  herself. 
Doctor  Grey  especially  forbade  that  when  he  was  here 
to-day." 

"  De  mail,  Mass'r  John,"  said  Jule,  entering  with  some 
letters  in  his  hand,  which  lie  gave  to  Colonel  Arendell ; 
who,  glancing  at  thci*  superscriptions,  said,  "  One  for  you, 

Ida." 

Mrs.  Arendell  was  soon  eagerly  perusing  its  contents ; 
when  finished,  she  passed  it  to  her  husband,  saying,  from 
Frederic,  and  picking  up  her  sewing,  began  the  work 
with  a  look  of  preoccupation  upon  her  countenance.  She 
did  not  notice  that  Aldeane's  eyes  were  fixed  wistfully 
upon  her  face,  and  when,  glancing  up,  she  caught  the 
mournful  look,  she  asked : — 

"  Do  you  want  any  thing,  Aldeane  ?" 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  she  replied,  removing  her  gaze  from 
Mrs.  Arendell  to  the  colonel,  who,  having  finished  the 
letter,  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  as  if  ready  to  converse. 

«« -vvTell— "  said  Mrs.  Arendell. 


» 


' 


oo 

an 
it 

I 

to 

( 

at 

hoi 
be( 

1 

sai( 
bef 
wo 
tol( 

litt 

(I 

and 

(( 

dell 
had 
suit 
dou 

u 

fatl 
bell 
kno 

a  h( 
drei 


ALDEANE. 


188 


he  children  were 
lly,  but  decisively 
lell,  that  ihe  might 
the  sofa-cushions, 
rcorae  by  exertion, 

iffering  her     glass 
you  North  ibr  a 

lall  soon  be  well," 

m  glad  you  are  so 
sen  long  reconciled 

reprovingly,  "  you 
»rudently  ventured 
!  must  not  let  her 
t  not  exert  herselt', 
when  he  was  here 

entering  with  some 
Colonel  Arendell; 
said,  "  One  for  you, 

using  its  contents ; 
iband,  saying,  from 
y,  began  the  work 
countenance.  She 
?^ere  fixed  wistfully 
ip,  she  caught  the 

?" 

oving  her  gaze  from 
laving  finished  the 
eady  to  converse. 


\ 


"  I  tJiink  it  is  the  best  thing  he  can  do,"  returned  the 
colonel. 

"  So  do  I.  They  have  been  engaged  quite  long  enough  ; 
and  they  are  both  old  enough  to  marry.  I  am  glad  that 
it  is  really  decided  upon  at  last." 

"  Oh,  ma,"  exclaimed  Leonore,  "  is  Uncle  Fred  going 
to  be  married  soon  V" 

"  Probably,  in  a  month  or  two." 

"  Well,  I  am  so  glad ;  I  shall  see  a  little  of  the  world 
at  last.    I  have  never  even  been  to  a  party  yet." 

"  And  sixteen  years  old  !"  ejaculated  the  colonel,  as  if 
horrified.    "  Only  think  of  it,  sixteen  years  old,  and  never 

been  to  a  party.     Sixteen !" 

"And   a  month,  pa!"   cried  Leonore,  eagerly. 
Her  father  laughed,  saying,  "  Well,  Nora,  I  promise 
gayety  enough  for  you  this  winter." 

"  Fred  says  ti.at  Annie  is  a  very  pretty,  pleasant  girl," 
said  Mrs.  Arendell,  musingly.  "  lie  told  me  the  evening 
before  he  left,  that  he  should  be  married  soon,  if  Annie 
would  consent.  I  liadn't  a  doubt  but  that  she  would,  and 
told  him  so.  He  seemed  quite  excited  about  it.  I  was  a 
little  surprised,  as  he  always  seemed  so  indifferent  before." 
"  Perhaps  he  was  afraid  some  one  else  might  step  in 
and  carry  off  the  prize,"  observed  Colonel  Arendell. 

"  Annie  is  very  accomplished,"  continued  Mrs.  Aren- 
dell, "  though,  Fred  says,  not  at  all  brilliant.  I  wish  she 
had  a  little  more  depth  of  character.  I  know  she  would 
suit  him  better.  But  they  say  she  is  amiable ;  so,  no 
doubt,  they  will  get  on  together  splendidly." 

"  You  will  have  to  practice  well,  Leonore,"  said  her 
father,  "before  you  go  North.  Don't  let  the  Boston 
belles,  or  beaux  either,  think  that  my  little  daughter 
knows  nothing." 

"  I  will  try  not  to.  But,  oli,  dear !  there  will  be  such 
a  heap  of  things  xr,  do  before  we  can  go.  Such  lots  of 
dresses  to  get,  and " 


j;m 


A  LDEANE. 


"Don't  woiTV  yourself,"  intcrniptiMl  Mrs.  Arin(K>n, 
lausrhins?  at  Loonore's  anxioty,  "  a  li'W  <l:iy^'  shoi.pin.si  in 
Nf'w  York  will  set  us  all  ri.u'ht.  Frcdorio  says  Annie  ni- 
tencls  to  ask  vou  to  be  a  l.riaeniaid— think  (.ftliat  f 

"Oh,  that  is  delitfhtt'nl  !  so  very  kind  in  her,  too,  when 
she  never  saw  me"  in  her  life.  What  shall  I  wear,  niaV 
And  pa,  you  must  get  me  some  pearls !  IJridesmaids  al- 
ways wear  pearls,  you  know." 

"  You  are  never  contented  without  a  draft  upon  my 
purse,"  relHirned  her  father,  laugliin.;,' ;  "  but  you  shall 
have  them,  little  lady.  Is  there  any  thing  else  the  brides- 
maids always  have?" 

"  Yes,  sir, lots  of  things;  but  when  must  we  go  .••  when 

are  they  to  be  married  V" 

"  Onthe  twenty-first  of  November." 

A  faint  moan  front  Aldeane  arrested  their  attention. 
They  turned,  and  Avere  frightened  to  sec  the  blue-veined 
lids  closing  languidly  over  her  brown  eyes,  and  her  mouth 

fixed  rigidly. 

Colonel  Arondell,  springing  forward,  dashed  some 
water  on  her  pale  face,  while  Mrs.  Vrendell  exclaimed, 
"How  imprudent !     Now,  this  is  a  week's  relapse." 

Her  words  were  true.  Aldeane  was  borne  to  her  cham- 
ber, from  which  she  did  not  again  descend  until  the  dreary 
November  days  with  their  chilly  rains,  were  upon  them. 
Then  the  school-room  had  again  its  mistress,  and  Leonore 
was  relieved  from  the  Avearisome  task  of  teaching  her 
young  brothers  and  sister,  and  turned  to  the  more 
agret^ible  one,  of  preparing  for  her  journey  North.  Col- 
onel, Mrs.  Arendell,  and  Leonore,  alone  were  going, 
leaving  Aldeane  alone  with  the  children.  She  was  glad 
of  theluvlf  solitude  their  absence  would  give,  and  looked 
calmly  upon  the  prei)arat ions  made  for  the  celebration  of 
that  event  which  woulil  separate  her  fcjrever  from  that 
heart  upon  whose  inmost  tablet  her  image  was  indelibly 
graven. 


the 

ma 

dec 

I 

whi 

— t 

ful 

■vrei 

wer 

entl 

thei 

chai 

miri 

a  b( 

F 

said 

ing 

fire, 

fasli 

H 

guid 

of  0 

kind 
befoi 
the  I 
seanc 


I  Mrs.  AniK^'ll, 
lays'  s1ioi)j)in!j;  ii» 
if  says  Annie  iu- 
ink  ..t'that!" 
in  lior,  too,  whon 
shall  I  wear,  maV 
IJridesmaitls  al- 

a  draft  upon  my 
;  "but  you  siiall 
\<X  else  tiie  brides- 

lust  we  go  ?  when 


d  their  attention, 
oe  tlie  blue-veined 
ves,  and  her  mouth 

rd,  daslied  some 
•endell  exclaimed, 
.'k's  relapse." 
borne  to  her  cham- 
id  until  the  dreary 
,  were  upon  them. 
;trcss,  and  Leonore 
k  of  teaching  her 
ned  to  the  more 
irney  North.  Col- 
lone  were  goiuL', 
?n.  She  was  glad 
d  give,  and  lookeil 
•  the  celebration  of 
forever  from  that 
uage  was  indelilily 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

A    MOMEXTOrS    INTERVIEW. 

Tt  was  upon  one  evening,  when  Aldeane  Guthrie  lav  at 
the  worst  point  of  the  fever  which  ha.I  attacked  her  that 
many  hundre.l  miles  distant  her  fate  was  .-onsidered  and 
tlecnled. 

Frederic  Morgan  ha<l  reached  his  home  the  dav  before 
where  h.s  mother  and  Annie  (Jreyson  were  e.vpeciin-  him' 
-thehrst  most  anxiously,  and  the  latter  with  that  gmee- 
ful  mdifferenee  wJ.ich  was  her  chief  cliaracteristic  ^Hofh 
were  somewhat  surj.rised  at  hi.s  excitability,  and  neither 
were  uiolmed  to  like  tlie  change  which  ha.I  been  appar- 
ently wrought  i.i  him  by  his  two  years  of  travel.  Hut 
they  naturally  attributed  his  nervousness,  and  the  sudden 
ehanges  in  his  mood  from  silence  to  almost  uproarious 
mirth,  to  his  return  to  a  liome  whence  had  been  removed 
a  beloved  lather,  and  wliere  a  lovely  bride  awaited  him 

i'or  Annie  Greyson  was  undeniablv  beautiful,  as  lie 
said  to  hnnself  as  he  entered  the  parlor  the  secon.l  everi- 
mg  atter  his  return  home,  and  saw  her  sittincr  near  the 
tUsliio"       '*"'*  """iature  representative  of  loveliness  and 

He  had  asked  her  to  meet  him  there,  but  as  she  la>  - 
guidly  raised  her  blue  eyes  to  his  face,  there  was  no  look 
ot  curiosity  or  that  warmer  feeling  which  should  hav,. 
kuKlled  withm  them.  She  did  not  rise,  but,  as  he  stood 
be  ore  her,  motioned  him  to  a  seat  at  the  opposite  side  of 
the  grate,  and  observed  that  it  was  verv  cold  for  the 
season.  "  •  ■   iml 


136 


ALDEANE. 


He  did  not  take  the  proffered  seat,  nor  immediately  vn- 
swer  her;  but,  leaning  against  the  mantel,  looked  down 

upon  her. 

First,  lie  thonght  how  different  would  have  been  hia 
greeting  if  the  plainly-robed  Ibnn  of  her  he  loved  were 
eoated  before  him,  instead  of  this  silken-dressed  doll, 
with  her  ribbons  and  laces  and  perfumes.  Yet,  though  ^ 
she  seemed  to  him  then  a  thousand  times  more  frivolous 
than  ever  before,  he  was  not  imjust  to  her;  he  believed 
her  possessed  of  the  simple  vanity  of  a  child,  but  not  for 
an  instant  of  the  ambition  of  a  somewhat  unscrupulous 

Avoman.  ,   u  ■    i 

She  toyed  lightly  with  a  rosebud  which  she  held  in  her 
hand,  and  yawned  slightly  behind  her  laced  handkerchief 
as  he  looked  at  her,^  glancing  furtively  once  at  a  long 
mirror  which  reflected  her  person,  and  with  the  thought 
that  blue  became  her  admirably,  and  that  she  was  look- 
in<r  unusually  well,  decided  that  her  lover's  first  words 
would  be  a  compliment ;  she  started,  therefore,  when  he 
at  last  said,  gravely: — 

"  Annie,  I  have  asked  you  to  meet  me  here,  that  we 
may  speak  seriously  together  concerning  our  contem- 
plated marriage." 

She  blushed  very  prettily,  as  she  glanced  at  him  tor 
one  instant.  "Indeed,  Frederic,"  she  said,  at  last,  "I 
had  ranch  rather  that  you  should  settle  all  that  with  your 
dear  mamma;"  adding,  inaudibly,  "I'm  sure  I  shall  have 
enough  to  do  to  see  to  riy  wardrobe.  Yes,  I'm  quite 
decided.     I  will  wear  white  satin  instead  of  moire  an- 

iique" 

"Annie,"  answered  Frederic,  quite  unconscious  ot  these 
last  thoughts,  "  too  much  of  what  has  passed  between  us 
has  been  managed  by  other  people." 

"  Dear  uncle  w'.as  so  thoughtful,"  murmured  Annie. 

Frederic  Morgan  bit  his  ifps,  and  looked  at  her  askance. 
"  Give  me  your  whole  mind  and  attention,  Annie,  for  a 


I 


fe 
pi 
an 

lUi 

se 

th 
th 

be 
va 

an 

wc 
thi 
mi 
an 

tic 
as 
ful 
fat 

ms 
toi 
Iia 
foi 

mv 
6h< 
be< 

sa^ 


»r  immoiVuittly  vii- 
utul,  looked  down 

lid  have  been  his 
u'l-  he  loved  wtro 
ilken-dressed  doll, 
nes.  Yet,  though 
les  more  iVivoloiis 

0  her ;  he  believed 

1  child,  but  not  for 
what  unserupulous 

lioh  she  held  in  her 
laced  handkerchief 
ly  once  at  a  long 
d  with  the  thought 
that  she  was  look- 
lover's  first  words 
therefore,  when  ho 

t  me  here,  that  we 
Tning  our  contem- 

njlanccd  at  him  for 
le  said,  at  last,  "I 
le  all  that  with  your 
'm  sure  I  shall  have 
be.  Yes,  I'm  quite 
istead  of  moire  an- 

unconscious  of  these 
s  passed  between  iia 

nurmured  Annie. 
)oked  at  her  askance, 
tention,  Annie,  for  a 


ALDEANE. 


187 


few  minutes,"  he  cried,  suddenly.  "  Tliis  is  no  child's 
play,  Annie.  Tell  me,  had  I  come  to  you  a  stranger,  poor 
and  friendless,  would  you  have  married  me  V" 

She  was  actually  startled — perhaps  more  by  his  excited 
manner  than  by  his  words,  unexpected  though  they  were 
— but,  after  a  moment's  pause,  she  answered,  with  perfect 
serenity: — 

"You  know,  Fred,  I  should  never  have  thought  of  any- 
thing so  improper.  I'm  quite  grieved  tliat  you  should 
think  it  possible." 

"  That  being  the  case,"  exclaimed  Frederic,  "  you  will 
be  quite  contented  to  find  yourself  mistress  of  Morgan- 
vale  without  the  incumbrance  of  a  husband." 

Then  she  looked  at  him  in  perfect  and  undisguised 
amazement. 

"I'm  sure,"  she  stammered,  at  length,  uttering  the 
words  which,  of  all  others,  he  dreaded  to  hear,  "  if  you 
think  that  you  would  be  an  incumbrance,  you  are  much 
mistaken.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  an  admirable  husband, 
and  I  will  try  to  please  you  in  every  way." 

"That  I  do  not  doubt,"  he  exclaimed,  in  great  agita- 
tion ;  "  but  believe  me,  Annie,  it  is  as  much  for  your  sake 
as  mine  that  I  beg  you  to  consider  deeply  before  you 
fulfill  the  contract  into  which  you  were  forced  by  my 
father." 

"  Oh,  indeed,  Frederic,  he  behaved  in  a  most  gentle- 
manly manner,"  returned  Annie,  in  a  mildly  persuasive 
tone.  "  Now,  pray  don't  worry,  Fred,  and  think  that  I 
liave  been  forced  to  marry  you  by  a  tyrannical  guardian, 
for  I'm  sure  I  always  thought  you  very  nice." 

It  almost  maddened  him  to  hear  her  prattle  thus,  with 
much  more  to  the  same  purpose.  How  childishly  selfish 
she  was.  Would  she  never  think  that  he,  perhaps,  had 
been  forced  into  this  marriage  if  she  had  not. 

"  Annie,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "  you  have  honored  me  by 
saying  that  this  marriage  is  not  distasteful  to  you,  while 


188 


A  LI) BAN'S. 


von  have,  at  the  same  time,  given  mc  aluuulant  proof 
that  vonr  atU«tioiis  WDiild  ivccivc  no  shock  if  it  never 
was  soK'niniziil.  1,  nnfortnnately,  can  not  he  80  iiiditfcr- 
cnt." 

She  looked  np  at  him  enrionsly. 

"Annie,"  lie  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "forjjive  me,  Annie, 
I  love  another." 

He  had  expected  a  burst  of  passionate  tears,  of  cutting 
reproaches,  scorn,  hatred,  any  thing  hut  the  charming 
po\it  of  the  red  lips  as  slu-  answered,  "  I  really  think  that 
verv  wrong  of  you,  Frederic.  Such  :>.  shame  as  it  was  in 
you  to  deceive  a  poor  girl  so !" 

"  Deceive  her  !"  he  cried,  passionately.  "  Indeed,  I  did 
not  deceive  her!  It  was  not  in  my  i)ower  to  do  so.  My 
love  was  uncontrollable.  Even  while  I  was  praying  for 
strength  to  hide  it,  it  burst  from  my  lips,  and  all  my  tale 
of  love  and  despair  was  told." 

"  Dear  me,  that  was  so  unfortunate,"  said  Annie,  as  if 
ho  were  speaking  of  one  in  whom  she  was  very  slightly 

■crested.  "  And  what  is  the  young  lady's  name ;  and 
where  does  she  live  ?" 

lie  flushed  redly,  and  answered  quickly:  "That  I 
can  not  tell  you,  Annie,  and  it  is  quite  cert  tun,  if  you  will 
not  release  me  from  my  engagement  without  that  knowl- 
edge, you  would  not  with  it." 

She  looked  at  him  from  beneath  the  golden  lashes  of 
her  eyelids  with  the  prettiest  show  of  playful  curiosity, 
as  she  said  :  "  It  is  really  unkind  of  you  not  to  tell  me. 
If  I  had  had  a  little  flirtation  in  your  absence,  I  assure 
you  I  would  have  told  you  the  gentleman's  name  and 
all  about  him." 

"  I  do  not  doubt,  Annie,  that  you  were  far  more  faith- 
ful than  I,"  he  cried  in  desperation.  "  lUit  1  swear  to 
you  I  hitended  to  fulfill  the  promise  I  made  you." 

"Intended  to?"  she  asked,  arching  her  eyebrows. 

"And  if  you  hold  me  to  my  engagement,  after  all  I 


ha 
fai 
an< 
an( 
Ian 

nni 
ass 
tioi 

I 
seci 
anil 
and 
rais 
it. 

I 
thai 
lier 
arm 

situ 
jilt( 
foot 

^' 

thor 
shot 
a  la< 
and 
solic 

yo", 

cxpc 
youi 
I'ms 
-.  am 
Fi 


ALDEANE. 


?  alnuulant  j)roor 
shock  if  it  iio\t>r 
not  1)0  f-o  "mditVcr- 


'orjiivc  mo,  Annio, 

te  tears,  of  outting 
but  tlio  olianiiiiisi 
I  really  tliink  that- 
shaino  as  it  Avas  in 

ly.    "  Indeed,  I  did 

i\ver  to  do  so.    My 

1  was  praying  for 

ps,  and  all  my  tale 

"  said  Annio,  as  if 
.'  was  very  slightly 
;  lady's  name ;  and 

quickly:  "That  I 
cert  am,  if  you  will 
rithout  that  knowl- 

le  golden  lashes  of 
f  ))layful  curiosity, 
you  not  to  tell  mo. 
,ir  absence,  I  assure 
tleman's  name  and 

ere  far  more  faith- 
"But  1  swear  to 
made  you." 
her  eyebrows. 

igement,  after  all  I 


189 


havo  said,"  ho  continued,  "  I  will  be  to  you  a  kind  and 
faithful  husband.  But  Amiio,  Annio, 'my  heart  is 
another's,  but  leave  mo  free,  to  dispose  of  that  as  I  wish, 
and  I  will  gladly  give  to  you  the  deeds  of  the  houses  and 
lands  which  have  caused  this  trouble." 

Annie  arose  from  her  scat,  and  looked  at  him  with  as 
nuu'h  dignitied  amazement,  as  it  was  possible  for  her  to 
assume,  aTid  then,  to  Frederic  ^Morgan's  utter  consterna- 
tion, sank  at  his  feet  in  a  swoon. 

llis  first  impulse  was  to  call  his  mother,  and  the 
second  to  exorcise  liis  personal  skill  in  restoring  her  to 
animation.  There  Avas  water  and  vinaigrette  a^  hand, 
and  in  a  few  moments  Jier  eyes  unclosedj  and  she  feebly 
raised  her  head  from  the  arm  on  which  he  Jiad  pillowed 
it. 

At  that  moment,  if  she  liad  but  said  she  loved  him, 
that  she  grieved  to  part  from  him,  lie  wonhi  have  taken 
her  to  his  heart  almost  with  joj.  l?ut  rising  from  his 
arms,  and  sinking  languidly  into  a  chair,  she  murmured  :— 

"How  couhc  you  be  so  cruel?  AVhat  a  ridiculous 
situation  to  place  one  in.  Every  one  would  say  you  had 
jilted  mo.  Horrible,"  and  she  shuddered  from  head  to 
foot. 

Now,  Frederic  Morgan  was  a  physician,  and  a 
thoroughly  practical  one  too,  and  therefore,  perhaps, 
should  not  have  been  alarmed  by  the  sudden  faintness  of 
a  lady,  but  nevertheless,  he  Avas  greatly  so  in  this  case, 
and  looked  at  the  tiny  figure  before  him  Avith  the  utmost 
solicitude,  as  she  contiiuied : — 

"  You  know,  Frederic,  I  promised  imcle  I  would  marry 
you,  as  I  have  expected  to  do  so,  and  every  one  has 
expected  it  of  me.  I  am  very  much  ob'=,'ed  to  yon  for 
your  kind  oft'er ;  it  is  very  considerate  upon  your  part, 
I'm  sure,  but  dear  me,  every  thing  is  ready.  I  should  ui.' 
-.  am  certain." 

Frederic  Morgan  stood  before  her,  and  in  impassioned 


140 


ALDEANE. 


words  declared  to  her  his  heart.  But  Bhc  did  not  for 
an  instant  read  it  aright.  In  her  intense  selfishness  she 
supposed  him  to  be  pleading  for  her  happiness,  not  for 
his  own,  and  that  of  tlie  woman  he  loved.  "  Annie,"  he 
cried,  at  length,  "  what  now  is  your  answer?" 

"  Why,  dear  me,"  she  said  gayly,  "  I  eould  dismiss  you, 
no  doubt,  if  I  had  the  heart  to  do  it,  and  all  the  world 
would  declare  it  periectly  right  ami  proper,  but  really, 
I  should  never  be  happy,  my  falsity  would  haunt  mo 
even  in  my  dreams.  No,  dear  Frederic,  I  will  never 
break  ray  word,  I  will  be  your  wife." 

"  And,"  she  added  to  herself,  "  nothing  could  be  more 
elegant  than  that  lace  veil  we  were  looking  at  in  Stewart's 
three  weeks  ago." 

Frederic  Morgan  spoke  not  another  word.  He  had 
told  her  all,  and  had  left  the  decision  of  their  fate  to  her, 
and  she  had  decided  it.  A  sudden  faintneas  came  over 
him,  more  terrible  than  any  mere  physical  weakness 
could  have  brought  over  him,  and  looking  blindly  at  the 
figure  in  the  chair  before  him,  and  thinking  madly,  de- 
spairingly of  that  other,  his  lost  love !  Aldeane  !  Aldeane, 
he  staggered  from  the  room. 

And  this  was  the  parting  of  an  affianced  pair.    Even 
Annie  Greyson  thought  it  a  strange  one,  as  she  arose 
from  her  chair,  and  stepping  to  the  long  mirror,  gazed  at 
her  reflection  for  some  moments,  and  murmured  at  last  :— 
"How  inconsiderate  of  Fred!    How  could  he  ever 
think  I  would  place  myself  in  such  an  absurd  position. 
Dear  me,  what  a  disagreeable  thing  it  is  to  cry,  and  its 
effects  are  so  distressing  toe',     I  declare  my  eyes   and 
nose  are  quite  red,"  and  with  a  pout  Miss  Greyson  threw 
herself  into  a  chair,  and  patiently  fanned  her  face,  until 
such  time  as  she  could  safely  look  into  the  mirror  without 
being  shocked  by  the  traces  of  the  tears  shed,  in  the 
first  private  interview  she  had  ever  held  with  the  man 
whom  she  was  to  marry. 


( 

cor 
his 
to 
par 
uss< 
I'ell 
pra 
moi 
unc 
I 
gra 
mei 
nati 
life, 
thei 
nev 
ofh 
nun 
him 

troi 
ann 
T 
gre« 
timi 


t  she  (lid  not  for 

iiBC  soltinhnoas  nho 

li:vi)ltini't»s,  not  for 

ked.     "  Annie,"  lu' 

SWIT?" 

could  dismiss  yon, 
,  and  all  the  world 
proper,  but  really, 
■  would  haunt  me 
deric,  I  will  never 

ling  could  be  raoro 
ling  at  in  Stewart's 

er  word.  He  had 
of  their  fate  to  her, 
'aintnefts  came  over 
physical  weakness 
•king  blindly  at  the 
liinking  madly,  de- 
Aldeane!  Aldeane, 

Sanccd  pair.  Even 
e  one,  as  she  arose 
mg  mirror,  gazed  at 
tturmured  at  last : — 
Low  could  he  ever 
an  absurd  position. 

it  is  to  cry,  and  its 
clare  my  eyes  and 
Miss  Greyson  threw 
mned  her  face,  until 
o  the  mirror  without 
3  tears  shed,  in  the 

held  with  the  man 


OHAPTER  XVIII. 


TWO    ISIPOUTANT   LETTEKS. 


One  evening,  some  three  weeks  after  the  event  re- 
corded ui  the  last  chapter,  Arthur  Guthrie  sat  alone  in 
liis  office — Ins  private  office — for  he  had  been  admitted 
to  the  bar  two  months  before,  and  was  now  the  junior 
partner  in  the  firm  of  Ilalcombe  and  Guthrie.  His 
associate  Chester  Halcombe  was  a  gentlemanly  young 
fellow,  who,  lacking  all  the  qualities  necessary  to  a  legal 
practitioner,  brought  into  the  firm  implicit  faith  in  his 
more  clever  partner,  and  the  excellent  connection  of  his 
uncle,  the  late  Edgar  Halcombe. 

As  Arthur  Guthrie  sat  before  the  glowing  fire  in  the 
grate,  leaning  his  arm  upon  a  table  bestrewn  with  docu- 
ments, he  could  not  but  admit  that  he  was  a  very  fortu- 
nate fellow,  with  every  prospect  of  an  early  rise  in 
life,  with  a  thousand  friends,  and  but  one  enemy.  Yes, 
there  was  one  enemy,  and,  although  Arthur  Guthrie 
never  met  him,  and  seldom  heard  of  him,  and  never  but 
of  his  rapidly  increasing  wealth,  he  had,  to  his  own  mind 
numerous  proofs  that  Jonas  Nevins  had  not  forgotten 
him. 

He  was  thinking  of  this,  and  of  one  other  thing  that 
troubled  him  even  more,  when  his  little  office  boy 
aimounced  a  gentleman,  and  Mr.  Ashton  entered. 

The  color  rushed  over  Arthur's  face,  as  he  arose  to 
greet  his  visitor,  and  dyed  it  still  more  readily,  a  second 
time,  when  he  asked  for  Miss  Ashton. 

"  Well,  I  scarcely  think  Belle  has  been  in  her  usual 


149 


ALDEAKE. 


good  health  of  lato,"  replied  Mr.  Anhtcn,  as  he  took  the 
siiit  which  Arthur  olVero.l  him.  "She  wv\w,  in  lact, 
<iuite  out  of  spirits." 

Arthur  inurmured  sometlnnj?  about  being  very  Horry, 
and  did  not  seem  in  very  high  spirits  himself,  and  that 
y\\:  Asliton  (piickly  noticed. 

"What's  the  matter,  Arthur?"  he  asked.    "IJusincss 

dull  V" 

"  It  never  was  better." 

"  Then,  what  d<>  you  mean  by  such  a  long  face  as  that? 
That  rascal  hasn't—" 

"  Yes,  he  hiis,"  intirruptcd  Arthur,  (piickly.  '|  I  told  you 
just  now  that  business  was  never  better,  but  in  fact,  El- 
dridge  and  .Morse  took  their  affairs  out  of  our  Irands  yes- 
terday, an<l  they   were  clients   of  Mr.   Ilalcombe's  for 

years'" 

"Indeed,"  said  Mr.  Ashton,  with  a  troubled  laec. 
"  Wluit  reason  did  they  assign  V" 

"The  same  as  Mr.  Leigh  did  last  week:  the  superior 
claims  of  Keith  and  Hayes." 

"  Was  there  no  complaint  made  of  either  Ilalcorabe  or 

yourself."  ,     .        , 

"  None,"  answered  Arthur.  "  But— "and  he  hesitated 
for  an  instant,  "I lalcombe  has  been  telling  me  an  absurd 
tale  that  is  upon  the  streets." 

"I  have  heard  it,"  interrupted  Mr.  Ashton,  quickly. 
"  Cliarles  Evans  was  telling  us  it  the  other  night.  The 
bare  idea  of  you,  a  g.ambler  and  drunkard,  it  is  indeed 
absurd.     I  never  saw  Belle  so  angry  in  my  life." 

Arthur  Guthrie  covered  his  face  with  his  hands.  "That 
she  should  have  heard  it,"  he  murmured. 

Mr,  Ashton  affected  not  to  hear  him,  but  after  looking 

at  him  keenly  for  a  moment,  began  to  talk  of  his  own 

'business  affairs,  and  as  he  was  not  going  to  Rose  Cottage 

that  night,  remained  at  the  office  until  it  was  quite  dark, 

when  tiiey  repaired  to  a  dining-hall  together. 


I 


ALD  EAN  E. 


H8 


>ii,  as  he  took  the 
le   soomH,  HI   lUct, 

hfiii^  very  nony, 
himsolf,  and  that 

iiMkc'il.    "  Uusii  105*3 


long  lace  us  that  ? 

lickly.  "Itoklyou 
cr,  but  ill  fact,  Kl- 
t  of  our  Imiids  yis- 
r.   Ilalcoiube'tf  Ibr 

a   troubled  face. 

veek:  the  tiupcrior 

.'ither  Ilalcombe  or 

—"and  he  lieBitated 
illing  me  an  absurd 

I-.  Ashton,  quickly. 

•  other  night.     The 

nkard,  it  is  indeed 

in  my  life." 

th  his  hands.  "  That 

•ed. 

11,  but  after  looking 

to  talk  of  his  own 

ng  to  Rose  Cottage 

il  it  was  quite  dark, 

ogethei". 


I 


rr.re  Ihcy  iii.'t  ^\^■.  llal,.„„,hc,  who,  ns  his  manner  was 
n'galcl  thcni  witli  ail  the  ov  ,AV,y  ,,f  tl,,.  day,  and  as  a 
Hpecially  ohoiee  morsel,  informed  (hem  ,.f  {\w  cnuai,'e'. 
iiK'nt  of  Dr.  Morrraii  and  his  cousin.  "And  iioorFivd 
IS  actually  to  Ik'^hiu.  a  Benedict  within  ten  days,"  he  coii- 
ciudcd. 

"I  am  sorry  to  take  away  your  triuin|.h,  Chester" 
said  Arthur,. luietly,  "but  really,  I've  known  of  that  nnt- 
fer  for  a  week  ,.a,st.      Let  ns  dVink  l  .  the  h.-altli  of  the 

happy  couple." 

"With  pl.^asure,"  sai.l  Mr.  Halconibe,  "You  always 
were,  and  .always  will  l)e,  before  me,  Arthur.  I  shonl.ln't 
wonder  now,  if  you  liave  been  invited  to  be  groomsni.an 
or  something  of  the  sort." 

"I  tell  no  state  s,.crets!"  crie.l  .\rlhur,  u'ayly,  an.l  tho 
subject  dropped,  to  be  renewed  again,  when"AVthur  and 
.Mr.  Ashton  were  alone,  in  tlie  co/y  back  oflice,  which 
was  ni  fact  the  Iionie  of  tlie  junior  partner,  and  then  he 
mlormed  Mr.  Ashton,  that  Chester's  jesting  surmise  was 
indeed  correct,  that  Frederic  Moriran  had  invited  liim  to 
be  one  of  his  groomsmen,  while  George  Haymoml  was  to 
he  the  other. 

"And  the  bridesmaids,"  asked  Mr.  Ashton. 

"Miss  Arendcll  is  to  be  one  certainly,  and  Miss  Ashton 
1!^'  counted  upon  for  the  otlier." 

"Indeed  !  And  she  will  act  with  you  of  course.  But 
I  can  tell  you,  Arthur,  you  will  have  to  make  your  jieace 
with  her  tirst,  as  she  thinks  you  have  neglected  us  of 
late." 

"Good  God!"  cried  Arthur,  suddenly,  with  seemino-ly 
unaccountable  yehemence,  "  how  has  it  been  possible  for 
me  to  go  there,  knowing  that  she  has  heard  these  atro- 
cious tales." 

"  That  sliould  haye  made  no  difference,"  returned  Mr 
Ashton.  "  You  know  Belle  is  too  truly  your  friend  to  be^ 
heye  any  thing  to  your  discredit.     Now,  Arthur,  I  do  not 


144 


ALDEANE. 


nisi,  to  dictate  to  you,  hut  I  think  you  shouia  u.  your 
position,  ..n.l..avor  to  retain  all  your  inon-lH.  It  m  .put. 
'.rtain  that  NovinH  i«  tryinp  to  ruin  you  au.l  y.m  nn.sl 
rally  all  your  tonus  against  hi.n,  thoujjh  I  am  ,.rc.tt y  cor- 
taiu  of  siU.n.-i..K  him  wry  otn-ctually.  Uul  we  nu.st, 
•wait,  we  must  wait."  »,     »  i . 

Arthur  looke<l  at  him  in  som(.  surprise,  but  Mr.  Ashton 
(lid  not  seem  inclined  to  speak  further  up<.n  the  subject, 
but  abruptly  asked  Arthur  whether  he  intended  to  ac- 
cept Frederic  Morgan's  invitation,  adding  that  he  would 
do  well  to  sc-ure  so  powerful  a  friend. 

"Mv  need  of  securing  such  friends,"  answered  Artliur, 
"  is  my  chief  reason  for  declining  the  honor  Morgan  pro- 
poses to  me.    1  want  to  work  my  own  way  against  that 

''"Pooh,  pooh!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Ashton.  "It  will  in  no 
degree  detract  from  your  independence  and  worth,  to  sur- 
round yourself  with  reliable  friends.  By^hc  way  that 
fellow  is  amassing  avast  fortune,  I  hear.  AVell,  well  he 
will  need  it  all;"  and  he  rubbed  his  hands  gleetuly 
together,  and  huighed  so  triumphantly,  that  Arthur  con  d 
not  refrain  from  asking  him  what  special  knowledge  he 

lield  of  Nevius.  .  , 

"  You  are  right  in  supposing  that  I  have  some  special 
knowledge  of  Nevins,"  returned  Mr.  Ashton,  gravely; 
"but  what  it  is,  or  how  I  gained  it,  I  can  not  at  present 
inform  you;  and  I  will  only  tell  you  this,  that  the  time 
will  come,  svhen  neither  you  nor  your  friends  will  regret 
that  they  Htood  between  you  and  that  man's  persecu- 

*"""  It  reioiccB  me  to  hear  itl"  cried  Arthur,  hopefully,  "  f<.r 
knowing  that,  I  shall  have  less  fear  of  mingling  with  them 
and  in  a  manner  associating  them  with  my  interestH  and 
pursuits.  Yet  even  with  this  vague  hint  ot  the  villainy  of 
Inv  persecutor  which  you  have  given  me,  it  is  hard  lor  me 
to  bear  calmly  the  aspersions  which  I  know  he  is  secretly 


ZmA 


II  t*h()iil<l,  ill  >■<""■ 
ioikIh.  It  IH  M""''" 
o\i,  ami  y<»i  ii»i'*l' 
li  I  am  i)nUy  vvr- 
.      JJul  \vc   must, 

10,  but  Mr.  Ashtnn 

iijion  the  8ii)>jirt, 

ic  intfii(lt'<l  to  a(!- 

liiig  that  lu"  would 

answered  Arthur, 
lonor  Morgan  pro- 
i  way  agaiuHt  that 

ton.  "  It  will  in  no 
a  and  worth,  to  sur- 
IJy  the  way,  that 
ar.  Well,  well,  he 
lis  hands  gleefully 
,  that  Arthur  could 
ecial  knowledge  he 

[  have  some  special 
•.   Ashton,  gravely ; 

I  can  not  at  present 

II  this,  that  the  time 
r  friends  will  regret 
that  man's  persccu- 

thur,  hopefully, "  for 
mingling  with  them, 
ith  my  interests  and 
hit  of  the  villainy  of 
me,  it  is  hard  for  me 
[  know  he  is  secretly 


ALDEAXI': 


145 


casting  upiin  my  name.  I  have  liad  serious  tlioughiH  of 
calling  iipuii  him,  an<l  warning  him  upon  his  peril  to  con- 
tinuc  liis  h.isc  cahuniiics." 

"The  worst  course  you  could  possibly  pursue,"  said  Mr. 
Ashton.  "lie  would  defy  you,  of  course,  and  make  out  a 
case  against  you  that  would  ring  through  tlic  city  in  a 
fortnight.  Such  a  thing  is  easily  spread,  in  this  way  fur 
instance,"  and  .Mr.  Asliton  drew  frr)m-his  pocket  a  letter, 
and  hiindcd  it  to  Arthur,  saying,  "ll.ad  that,  .and  tell  me 
if  you  can,  who  took  tlic  pains  to  write  it.  It  is  signed, 
*  A  Hoston  Friend.'  W'luHhcr  that  means  a  style  of  friend 
peculiar  to  this  rity,  or  a  friend  who  is  merely  a  rcsidcMit 
Iiere,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  determine.  If  the  former,  I  tremble 
for  Hoston." 

Unheeding  these  last  remarks,  .\rtlmr  had  opened  and 
e.agcrly  perused  the  letter,  whicii,  written  in  a  cramped, 
and  evidently,  disguised  hand,   contained   the  following 
Wdids:— 
"CuAiti.Ks  Ashtox,  Esii.: — 

"  Dkau  Sir:  As  an  old  and,  I  trust,  a  somewhat  valued 
friend,  both  of  yourself  ami  your  lovely  daughter,  I  ft'(d 
constrained  to  perform  the  unpleasant  duty  of  acquainting 
you  with  some  facts  concerning  a  young  gentleman  in 
whom  it  is  well  known  you  take  a  warm  interest.  I  al- 
lude to  :Mr.  Arthur  (iuthrie. 

"  In  the  first  ])lace,  I  will  t.ike  the  liberty  first  of  relating 
a  little  event  wiiich  took  jjlacc  about  two  months  ago;  it 
will  ])erhaps  iHustr.ite  the  character  of  the  young  jnan 
more  than  any  words  of  mine  could  possibly  do.  Premi- 
sing, that  I  ntn  perfectly  willing  that  you  should  seek 
whatever  proof  you  may  wish,  in  the  most  expeditious 
way  that  may  occur  to  you." 

"  Now  isn't  that  the  most  absurd  thing"  interrupted  Mr. 
Ashton,  who  had  risen  and  was  glancing  over  iVrthur's 
shoulder  as  he  read.    "  As  if  I  was  going  into  every  saloon 

on Street  to  incpiire  whether  'a  tall  young  ma.i' 

7 


146 


ALBEAXJ^. 


But  yro  on;  you  don't  understand 


was  ever  seen  there 

"' "  I  was  aoin.^  down Street,  with  Bome  gentlemen 

Mr  Xevi.^  an^on,^  the  rest,  when  I  saw  a  tall  youn,  n. u 
t:Xrn  one  of  U.e  mo.t  noted  gan.bhn,  ^^^oJ^ 
seemed  very  drunk,  and  as  ho  reele.l  past  me,  shoutel 
out      a  oud  voice  ;  and  with  a  feeling  of  horror  I  reeog- 
led  it,  and  excla^ed,  'Is  it  possible  that  that  .  yom.g 

Mr.  Guthrie !' 

"'I  am  sure  it  was,'  said  one. 

<^^jZ.  he  i.  going  the  road  to  ruin  rapidly,'  remarked 

""'Kapidlv  indeed!'  said  Mr.  Nevins.     'Poor  fellow,  I 
mtv  hin       With  his  unusual  talents  and  fine   personal 

rrrld:  but,  with  his^unfortunate  propensities,  1  ieai 

the  very  worst  for  him.' 

"Curse  him!"  hissed  Arthur,  bitterly. 
"  'I  ave  you  no  other  proof  that  the  person  you  saw  was 
Mr.  GiS.!'  asked  Mi!  Nevins,  with  a  fanit  intonation 
of  doubt  still  in  his  voice. 

"  I^ould  scarcely  believe  what  I  had  seen,     assun.  you, 
Mr  Ashton,  though  my  eyes  do  not  often  play  me  talsc 
?Let  us  go  into  the  saloon,'  I  said,  'and  ask  the  name  ot 
the  young  man  who  has  just  passed. 

«My  suggestion  was  eagerly  seconded  by  all  preseirt 
except  MirNevins,  who  considerately  desired  that  o 
further  proof  migM  be  obtained  of  his  step-son's  delin- 
qutcy.'  Howevfr  the  majority  carried  the  point,  and  we 
Tut  In  to  make  inquiries.  The  keeper  of  the  s a  con 
ae  Ined  to  tell  his  name,  but  inadvertent  y  ajlmitted 
ha  he  was  a  young  lawyer,  doing  business  in  this  c  ty 
'ile  hasn't  lost'much  yet,'  said  the  m.n,  'but  I  wouldn  t 
like  to  trust  much  money  in  his  hands. 

"T^.e  villain!"  cried  Arthur,  with  micomroUable  pas- 
sion.    "  This  is,  indeed,  more  than  I  can  bear,     ihis  un- 


I 


doii 
pra 

and 

a 

kno 
tinii 
decl 
calc 
ceiv 
but 
nam 
A 
tioni 
the  1 

gent 
ever 

me,  i 
offen 
iiegl( 

Ml 
the  ( 
least 

"I 
becoi 
wliic! 
for  n 

"I 
speci 

Ar 
said  ; 
— toL 

'I 
at  vo 

''A 


T 


ALDEANE. 


147 


lon't  uiukTstiind 

some  gentlemen, 
I  tall  younsj;  man 
in;j;  saloons.  He 
last  me,  shouted 
,f  horror  I  recog- 
liat  that  is  young 


apidly,'  remarked 

'  Poor  fellow,  I 
iiid  fine  personal 
ble  reputation  in 
iropcnsities,  I  fear 


erson  you  saw  was 
a  faint  intonation 

seen,  I  assure  you, 
'ten  play  me  false, 
d  ask  the  name  of 

led  by  all  present, 
y  desired  that  no 
is  step-son's  delin- 
J  the  point,  and  we 
jper  of  the  saloon 
rertently  admitted 
isiness  in  this  city, 
pn,  'but  I  wouldn't 

i.'" 

uncontrollable  pas- 
can  bear.     This  un- 


■ 

1 


doubtedly  is  tlio  vile  story  that  has  already  affected  my 
practice  so  sensibly." 

'^  Certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Ashton.  «  Xow  read  the  rest 
and  tell  me  if  that  too  is  false." 

"  The  above  fact,  I  liave  thouo;lit  it  my  duty  to  make 
known  to  you,  as  Mr.  (iutiuie  lias  often  boasted  of  his  in- 
timacy with  you  and  your  daughter,  of  whom  he  has  often 
declared  himsolf  the  favored  suitor,  and  has  openly  made 
calculations  of  the  amount  of  fortune  which  he  will  re- 
ceive with  her.  This  jioint  I  should  never  have  mentioned, 
but  for  the  unpleasant  notoriety  given  to  Miss  Ashton'.s 
name." 

Arthur  read  no  further,  though  there  were  several  addi- 
tional lines.  lie  dashed  the  letter  upon  the  table,  and  paced 
the  room  excitedly. 

"Mr.  Ashton!"  he  exclaimed,  suddenly  turning  to  the 
gentleman  who  was  keenly  watching  him :  "  That  I  have 
ever  spoken  of  3Iiss  Ashton  in  the  manner  imputed  to 
me,  is  false,  but  now  I  feel  that  I  must  declare  my  true 
otfense,  and  give  you  the  real  reason  for  my  seemin<r 
neglect  of  you.    I  love  Miss  Ashton."  " 

.Mr.  Ashton  did  not  seem  at  all  surprised,  and  indeed 
the  expression  of  his  countenance  did  not  chancre  in  the 
least  as  Arthur  continued  :—  " 

"I  have  even,  sir,  had  some  presumptuous  hopes  of 
becoming  worthy  of  her,  and  of  obtaining  a  position 
which  she  could  share  without  loss.  Mr.  Ashton,  1  have 
for  months  past  known  these  hopes  to  be  vain." 

"  And  of  course,"  said  Mr.  Ashton,  though  without  any 
special  severity,  "  you  never  mentioned  this  to  Belle." 

Arthur  flushed  to  the  temples.  "I  am  afraid,  sir,"  he 
said  at  last,  in  a  low  voice,  "that  I  did  once— only  once 
— tell  her  something  of  my  hopes." 

"Indeed,"  remonstrated  Mr.  Ashton,  "  I  am  surprised 
at  you,  ^Irthur,  surprised." 

"31iss   Ashton  was   so  beauliful,"  murmured  Arthur 


148 


ALDEAiTE. 


hoiH-lessly.  "  I  (lul  not  mean  to  speak,  but  I  could  not 

'''"'Anil  of  course,"  returned  Mr.  A.hton,  most  unexpeet- 
...llv  "  H.lle  eouUln't  help  expressing  her  nulignation  aV 
Bueh  eomluct,  and,  hy  the  way,  here  is  a  note  she  gave  n,.. 
to  deliver  to  you,  which  is  no  doubt  expressive  ot  the 

"  Arthur  took  the  note  with  trembling  fingers,  remem- 
berincr  that  Belle's  face  upon  that  day  had  not  been  so 
expressive  of  indignation  as  her  father  ai.peare.l  to  sup- 
pose. Opening  tlie  little  missive,  he  read  with  teehngs 
indescribable,  the  following  lines : 

Deau  ARTunr.-Papa  has  shown  me  the  anonymous 
letter  concerning  vou  which  he  has  just  received.  Oh, 
Arthur,  I  know  it  is  all  false,  every  bit  false,  I  wish  you 
would  come  to  Hose  Cottage  that  I  might  tell  you  so. 
Dear  Arthur,  I  know  you  are  jn  trouble,  and  that  that  is 
the  reason  vou  absent  yourself  from  us,  and  a  thousaiu 
times  a  day  I  have  reproached  myself  with  the  thought 
that  this  would  not  have  been  so,  if  I  had  done  my  duty 

to  myself  and  you,  Mhen .      Oh,  Arthur,  1  know 

these  tales  are  false.  I  will  trust  you  m  spite  of  all  the 
world.  I'apa  says  1  may  write  this,  and  I  think  I  onee 
promised  you,  I  would  ansAver  you  sometime,  and  1  do 
not  fear  but  you  will  read  clearly  the  emotions  winch 
prompt  me.  ^onrs, 

.ji^&a.  Belle. 


Arthur  remained  for  a  few  moments  in  a  state  of  ec- 
static bewildennent.  "  Mr.  Ashton  "  he  exclaimed  at  last, 
"ean  it  be  that  your  daughter  loves  me,  and  that  you 
will  give  her  to  me,  a  poor,  and  persecuted  man  i  iMy 
darling,  how  noble  and  fearless  she  is." 

"Ami  what  a  coquette,"  interrupted  Mr.  Ashton. 
"  Now,  the  truth  is,  Arthur,  I  have  suspected  this  for  a 


lo 
r,( 

fui 

esi 
at 

W( 

thi 
de 

Ull 

m( 

Sll! 

sai 
be( 

pr( 
imi 
his 
an( 
the 
Ar 
Iiei 
cor 
one 
coil 


:    but  I  coultl  not 

on,  most  nncxpec-t- 

lior  indignation  i\l 

a  note  she  gave  me 

expvosKive  of  the 

ig  fingers,  remcm- 
y  lia(i  not  boon  so 
r  ai)iiearc(l  to  sup- 
read  with  feelings 

ine  tlie  anonymoxis 
just  received.  Oh, 
lit  lalse,  I  wish  you 

might  tell  you  so. 
Ac,  and  that  that  is 
ns,  and  a  thousand 
If  with  the  thought 
[  had  done  my  duty 
h,  Arthur,  1  kno\v 
u  in  spite  of  all  the 

and  I  think  I  once 
sometime,  and  I  do 
the  emotions  which 


Yours, 


Belle. 


nts  in  a  state  of  ec- 

he  exclaimed  at  last, 

!s  me,  and  that  you 

■rsecuted  man?     ^ly 


ALDEANE. 


14i) 


long  time,  and  upon  the  receipt  of  tliat  letter,  I  taxed 
Delle  with  tlic  truth.  Of  course  she  couldn't  deny  it,  and, 
fancying  you  the  most  jtersecuted,  and  herself  the  crud- 
est of  mortals — for  she  told  me  she  liad  actually  laughed 
at  you — she  begged  me  to  allow  her  to  answer  your 
words  of  a  year  ago.  I  said  it  would  be  as  ridiculous  as 
the  story  of  the  silent  gentleman  and  liis  silent  servant." 
"Mr.  Ashton"  cried  Arthur,  "it  was  noble,  it  was  the 
deed  of  an  angel.  Yet  how  can  I  suffer  her  to  share  my 
uncertain  fortunes,  I "  and  ho  glanced  at  the  anony- 
mous letter. 

"  ]My  dear  fellow !"  cried  Mr.  Ashton,  warmly,  "  You 
shall  ask  Belle  M-hat  slie  cares  for  that,  while  I  will  at  the 
same  time  publish  that  letter  and  the  fact  that  you  are  to 
become  my  son-in-law." 

Arthur  wrung  his  liand  and  spoke  no  more  of  dismal 
prospects  that  night.  Bitt,  it  is  reported,  sat  down  almost 
immediately,  and  wrote  pages  upon  pages  to  the  lady  of 
his  love,  over  which  her  father  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
and  his  daughter  alternately  wept  and  smiled,  through 
the  few  joyful,  yet  seemingly  interminable  days,  before 
Arthur  Guthrie  visited  Rose  Cottage,  and  gained  from 
her  lips — with  perhaps  something  still  sweeter — the  same 
confession  her  hand  had  written — even  a  more  complete 
one,  though  it  could  scarcely  be  more  satisfactory — the 
confession  of  her  love. 


rupted   IMr.    Ashton. 
suspected-  this  for  a 


1 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


TlIK   "MKRRY   wedding. 


The  carriage  had  rolled  arouii.l  the  bend  of  the  road, 
bearing  Colonel  Arendell  is  wife,  and  daughter,  upon  the 
first  stage  of  their  journ.y  North.  The  children  after  a 
burst  of  tears,  and  a  score  of  lamentations,  had  rushed 
off  to  enjoy  the  holid.ay  which  Aldeane  had  awarded  them, 
while  she,  with  emotions  too  deep  for  words,  and  many, 
indeed  which  she  was  resolved  no  mortal  should  ever 
learn,  stood  upon  the  porch  in  a  mournful  reverie,  which 
was  at  last  broken  by  the  voice  of(Aunt  Roxy,  proceed- 
inc  from  the  depths  of  her  check  apron. 

"Well  I  do  wish  dey  wos  back  ag'in,"  she  sobbed. 
"  I  do  hate  to  hab  Miss  Xory  go  'way." 

"Yes,  it  will  be  very  lonely,  auntie,"  replied  Aldeane. 

"  'Pears  to  me,  she  is  dc  purtiest  an'  best  chile  I  hab  eber 

seed  in  all  my  sublunatory  resistance!  No  more  hke  her 

ma  was,  den  a  'possum's  like  a  jay-bird.     Don  t  eben 

look  like  her !" 

"  Ah !  what  sort  of  a  lady  was  she  ?" 
"  She  was  tall  as  a  bean  pole,  wid  de  greatest  black 
eyes  and  de  blackest  ha'r  I  eber  seen,  and  1  tell  you,  dem 
white  hands  o'  hem  would  sting!     Ugh  !  I've  felt  'em 
many  a  time !" 

"  She  had  not  a  very  gentle  temper,  then  ? 

"  You're  right  dere,  :Niiss  Aldeane.     I  tell  ye  she  used 

to  rile  out  otlen  at  de  niggers,  and  Mass'r  .John  too,  for 

dat  matter.     I  tell  you  she  did  lub  money  powerful  well. 

Neber  could  sec  how  :«ass'r  John  come  to  marry  her,  no 


lin 

CO 

sh 


mi 

de 

wt 
lie 
Ba 
sa 
so 
elj 

nil 

la( 

t0( 

% 

ye 

So 
m; 
a  1 


a-l 
rie 
aci 
de 
loi 
sti 
wi 

ne 


bend  of  iTio  road, 
laujjthtcr,  upon  the 
e  chiMivn,  after  a 
tions,  had  rushed 
lad  awarded  them, 
words,  and  many, 
ortal  should  ever 
iful  reverie,  which 
nt  Roxy,  proceed- 
I. 
tj'in,"  she  sobbed, 

'  replied  Aldeanc. 

est  chile  I  hab  cber 

No  more  like  her 

bird.     Don't  ebeu 


de  great  est  black 
ind  1  tell  you,  dem 
'srh  !  I've  felt  'em 

then  ?" 

I  tell  ye  she  used 
[ass'r  John  too,  for 
jney  powerful  well, 
le  to  marrv  her,  no 


A  LDEANE. 


151 


how!  I 'spec  dat  she  acted  mijility  fine  when  he  was  a 
conrtin'  her;  an'  don't  say  nothiii'  about  it,  .Miss  Aldeane, 
she  ruled  liiiii  slick  ciionij:!!  after  she  <i()l  liim,  too." 

"  Vou  faucy  that,  I  guess  !"  re])lied  Aldeane,  laugh- 
ing. 

"No  nms'in,  I  don't.  Leastways  eberybody  else  tinks 
de  same  ting.  An'  deres  dat  Mass'r  Ilichard  Blake,  ho 
was  l\er  cousin,  .i.id  oberseer  den.  Why,  bress  yer  heart 
he  knowed  things  dat  happened  den,  dat  it's  taken  thou- 
sands o'  dollars  to  make  him  keep  still  about.  Folks 
said  dat  it  was  througli  dem  two  dat  ^Vlass'r  John  got 
so  much  of  his  brudder's  ])roperty.  Dey  brought  in 
claims  dat  swallered  up  most  all  ob  de  estate.  Dat's  how 
^lass'r  John  got  Samira,  and  me,  and  a  heap  ob  do  oder 
niggers.     Folks  say  dis,  an'  I  b'lieves  'e;u." 

"  I  bit  you  should  not  believe  all  you  hear.  The  poor 
lady  may  have  had  enemies." 

"  Dat  she  had  !  a  many  a  one,  and  she  orter  had  more, 
too  !  Oh,  I  tell  you  de  way  she  used  ter  make  de  niggers 
lly,  wasn't  slow;  more  wiiip))in'  done  on  de  place  in-one 
year  den  dere  has  been  all  de  time  ]Miss  Idy's  been  here. 
Some  say  Miss  Lu — dat  was  her  name — iiad  a  spite  ag'iu 
my  mass'r  dat  was,  'case  he  wouldn't  marry  her.  He  was 
a  mighty  fine  man,  though  ho  purty  nigli  got  us  all  sold, 
by  bein'  so  wild  when  he  was  young."  O 

"  Was  he  married  ?"  '"''^ 

"  Yes,  he  was ;  an' — .  Oh,  Lordy  me,  Zet !  dem,  pies  is 
a-burnin',  dem  jnes  is  a-burnin' !"  And  Aunty  lloxy  hur- 
ried aAvay  to  the  kitclien,  leaving  Aldeane  to  turn  to  the 
active  duties  of  the  school-room.  Tiie  house  seemed  half 
deserted,  and  the  cliildreu  unusually  stupid  and  queru- 
lous. The  day  ])assed  drearily — the  harbinger  of  many 
still  more  desolate,  that  followed  during  that  lonely 
winfer. 

The  twenty-first  of  November  rose  in  unclouded  bright- 
ness, both  North  and  South,  yet  it  bore  a  fresli  wiight 


152 


ALDEANE. 


of  agony  to  two  hearts.  Aldcanc  spent  the  day  in  tears 
and  prayer ;  Frederic  ^Morgan  in  despairing  mehincholy. 
lie  Hat  in  his  dressing-room,  when  Arthur  Guthrie,  tollowed 
by  his  fellow-groomsman,  ]Mr.  (leorge  llaymoud,  entered 
it  and  exclaimed,  "  What,  doctor— not  ready  yet  ?  The 
carriage  is  at  the  door— come,  hurry  !" 

Frederic  slowly  arose  from  the  large  arm-chair  in  which 
he  had  been  sitting,  and  turned  toward  the  toilet-table, 
sighing  deeply,  as  he  said,  "  Take  seats,  gentlemen,  I  will 
not  detain  you  long." 

They  complied,  and  were  soon  engaged  in  an  animated 
conversation.  Doctor  Morgan,  as  he  was  now  called, 
slowly  and  wearily  completed  his  toilet.  At  some  trifling 
jest  from  Arthur,  he  turned  suddenly,  to  their  surprise 
revealing  a  face  pale  as  death,  and  contracted  with  agony. 
Arthur  started,  and  said  in  a  low  voice  to  his  friend  :— 
"Good  God!  is  he  ill." 

"  I  don't  know,  Morg.  . ;  you  had  better  take  a  glass  of 
wine  before  you  go.     It  is  pretty  cold  this  morning." 

"  Yes  !"  returned  he,  turning  to  the  glass,  and  regarding 
his  reflection  with  a  sorrowful  glance.  "  King  tlie  bell, 
if  you  please,  Arthur !" 

"  Bring  some  port  and  sherry,"  he  said,  when  the  ser- 
vant app°  ared.  It  was  soon  before  them,  and  Frederic 
drained  glass  after  glass,  until  placing  his  hand  on  his 
arm,  Mr.  Raymond  said,  warningly : — 

"  Enough,  Fred !  we  must  go ;  Miss  Annie  will  become 
impatient.  I  presume  she  is  already  on  her  way  to  the 
church." 

They  were  soon  gliding  briskly  over  the  snow,  toward 
the  church,  where  they  found  the  bridal  party  awaiting 
them.  Annie  Greyson,  beautifully  arrayed  in  white  silk, 
lace,  and  costly  jewels,  smiled  joyously  as  Frederic  took 
her  hand,  while  a  quick  flush  arose  to  the  oiieek  of  Belle 
Ashton,  as  Arthur  Guthrie,  as  her  attend.'iut,  approached 
her.     Mr.  Raymond  and  liconore  Aronddl  were  the  other 


the  day  in  tears 
ring  meliincholy. 
Gnthrio,ion()\v('(l 
laymoiul,  entered 
ready  yet  ?    The 

rm-ehair  in  which 
I  the  toilet-table, 
gentlemen,  I  will 

h1  in  an  animated 
was  now  called. 
At  some  trifling 
to  their  surprise 
acted  with  agony, 
to  his  friend : — 

ter  take  a  glass  of 
;hi8  morning." 
ass,  and  regarding 
"King  the  bell, 

said,  when  the  ser- 
lem,  and  Frederic 
T  his  hand  on  his 

Annie  will  become 
on  her  way  to  the 

•  the  snow,  toward 
lal  party  awaiting 
ayed  in  white  silk, 
r  as  Frederic  took 
the  oiieek  of  Belle 
nd.'int,  approached 
dell  were  the  other 


ALDIJAITE. 


158 


attendants,  and  as  tliey  followed  the  betrothed  pair  into 
the  church,  many  thought  a  handsomer  group  could  not 
have  becMi  Hclectcd.  The  ceremony  was  in  tlie  E])iscoj)al 
form,  and  din-ing  its  lengthy  ]iert'ormance,  tliough  out- 
wardly calm,  Frederic  was  greatly  agitated,  ills  hair 
li'U  in  damp  masses  over  his  pale  brow,  ami  the  hand 
raised  to  toss  it  bat^k  trembled  fearfully.  Annie,  calm 
and  selt-possessed  herself,  wondered  that  ho  was  so  ex- 
cited, but  failed  to  see  that  his  emotion  was  the  shiver  of 
despair,  rather  than  the  tremor  of  gratified  hojjeand  love. 
Arthur  and  lielle  alone  guessed  the  truth.  They  marked 
tlie  choked  utterance,  the  cold  fingers  which  clasped  so 
lightly  the  little  liand  within  them.  They  saw  the  forced 
smiles,  that  broke  into  gleams  of  agony  over  his  face,  and 
knew  that  Frederic  Morgan  did  not  love  the  woman  he 
was  marrying,  but  that  his  heart  was  truly  another's. 
At  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony  the  groom  passed  his 
arm  around  his  new-made  wife,  and  kissed  her  in  so 
strange  a  manner,  that,  looking  with  a  startled  glance 
into  his  face,  she  inquired  anxiously,  "  Dear  husband,  are 
you  ill  ?" 

"  No,  I  shall  recover  in  a  moment,"  he  whispered,  shud- 
dering as  he  heard  the  name  of  husband  trom  her  lips. 
"  I  am  a  little  excited — nothing  more  !" 

Annie  readily  believed  his  words,  and  in  the  hurry  of 
receiving  congratulations,  and  the  departure  from  the 
church,  failed  to  notice  liis  violent  eftbrts  to  obtain  com- 
posure. He  rt-as  watched,  however,  by  both  Arthur  and 
Belle,  who  rejoiced  to  see,  tliat  after  their  arrival  at  the 
house,  he  was  as  self-possp?;.,ed,  if  not  as  gay  as  usual. 
A  grand  reception  was  given  in  the  evening,  and  Mrs. 
Arendell  was  rejoiced  to  discover  that  Leonore  was  uni- 
versally admired,  nor  were  they  at  all  displeased  to  notice 
the  impression  she  had  evidently  made  upon  Mr.  Kay- 
mond,  which  Averc  truly  remarkable.  Doctor  JMorgan  in- 
formed his  sister,  as  he  had  never  regarded  any  lady  with 
1* 


151 


ALDEANE. 


nujrht  but  in.UttiTcnce,  and  hail  a  tlioitMaiul  times  (leclr..vcl 
to  him  his  iiiti-iiticn  of  living  ami  ayini,'  a  bai-helor.  But 
ll.e  beautiful  Leonore  Aron.lcU  app'«aro(l  already  to  have 
weakened  that  determination,  as  he  scarcely  leil  her  side 
duriti'^  the  entire  evenint^. 

She  was  indeed  surprisinj^ly  beautiful  in  her  rich  but 
Himple  robe,  and  the  delicate  pearls,  for  which  she  had 
stijiulated,  strands  of  which  confined  her  dark  ban-,  and 
encircled  her  white  throat  and  arms.     The  novelty  ot 
the  scene  deli<jhted  her,  and  excitement  lent  a  new  tint 
of  crimson  to  her  cheeks,  and  luster  to  her  beautiful  eyes. 
The  brilliant  light  fell  softly  over  the  rich  brown  curls, 
that  fell  in  abundance  over  her  pearly  shoulders.     As 
Colonel  Arendell  watched  her  floating  lightly  with  Mr. 
Raymond  in  the  airy  mazes  of  the  dance,  he  felt  arising 
in  his  heart  aspirations  for  her  of  which  before  he  had 
never  dreamed  ;  and  traced  in  the  dim  vistas  of  the  future 
scenes  of  happiness  through  which  she  should  pass,  the 
loved  and  admired  of  all.     Mrs.  Arendell  touched  his  arm. 
"  Is  she  not  beautiful  V"  she  queried.     "  Our  Southern  star 
beams  with  full  luster  to  night,  that  has  cast  but  a  mellow 
radiance  before.     I  wish  Aldeane  Guthrie  was  hero  to  see 
her.  '     Ah  !  little  she  thought  that  at  that  very  moment, 
she  was  experiencing  the '^cfcopest  meaning  of  woe  an<l 
desolation. 

Doctor  Morgan  approached  them.     His  cheeks  were 

burning  with  fever.     Mrs.  Arendell  touched  his  hand ;  it 

was  hot  and  dry. 

"  Where  is  your  wife?"  she  jisked, 

"O  God!"  he  thought,  "must  they  all  remind  me  of 

her  relationship  to  me !"  but  he  answered  calmly,  "  With 

Mr.  Guthrie,  I  believe.    Will  you  dance  this  set  with  me  ?" 
"  Certainly !"  and  as  he  led  her  away  she  said,  in  a  low 

voice,  "Frederic,  don't  drink  any  more  to-night.     I  saw, 

when  you  were  taking  wine  in  the  dining-room  with  Mr. 

Gartrell,  that  your  hand  shook  badly." 


> 


\ 


"I 

fo 

dc 
kii 

St! 

yii 
J '.I 


mt 
Hti 
j.U 
nui 

fro 
Is 
sio 
sm 
re] 

he 

hoi 

wa 

^ 

loo 
sho 
yoi 
be 
at  1 
1 
ace 


A  LDK A  Xh'. 


1 


b^ 


ul  times  tleclr.ivd 
ft  biU'liL'lor.     r>ut 

I  ftlroiuly  to  liiive 
rccly  leli  hc-r  buIu 

il  in  her  rich  but 
r  which  nhe  had 
■r  (lark  hair,  and 

The  novelty  of 
,  h'lit  a  new  tint 
ler  beautiful  eyen. 
rich  brown  cm-Is, 
y  shoulders.     As 

lightly  with  Mr. 
.'c,  lie  felt  arising 
ch  before  he  had 
istas  of  the  future 
;  shoidd  ])ass,  the 

II  touched  his  arm. 
Our  Southern  star 

cast  but  a  mellow 
ric  was  hero  to  see 
hat  very  moment, 
aning  of  woe  and 

His  cheeks  were 
ached  his  hand ;  it 


all  rcmhid  me  of 
red  calmly, "  With 
( this  set  with  me  ?" 
y  she  said,  in  a  low 
e  to-night.  I  saw, 
dna-roora  with  Mr. 


"Oil!  don't  fear  for  me!  Wine  will  have  no  eflect 
ni)()n  nie;  a  pipo  of  it  w«Mild  not  (iiitiK-h  the  buniin<,^ 
fever  that  consumes  nic.  I  ani  perfect ly  solu'r.  Do  you 
doubt  it  ?" 

"  No,"  she  rej.!!,.!,  smiling;  '•  but  remain  so.   I  did  not 
know  that  you  were  such  a  veritable  toju-r  that  you  could 
stand  any  amount.     Pray  don't  follow  the  ex'amj.le  of 
young  Lounsbeiry.     T  see  that  he  is  ipiite  overcome." 
^  Frederic  laughe.l  derisively.     ".My  motlier  and  J.ady 
Ihide  shall  never  see  me  in  that  situation." 
"Annie  is  beautiful  to-niglit,"  said  .^Irs.  Arendell. 
"  Yes.     But  so  (juiet,  so  j.recise,  so  calmly  beautiful !" 
interrupted  Frederic,  jjcftishly.     "Oh!  that  she  had  a 
little   more  vitality!     Her  beauty  is   like   sweet  M'iue, 
].leasant  but  not  exiularating;  and'  its  effects  arc  as  weak 
and  transient  !" 

Mrs.  Arendell  looked  up  in  surprise.  Such  Avords 
from  a  new-made  husband !"  she  exclaimed,  hast  ily.  "  All ! 
1  see  you  are  jesting,"  as  Frederic,  to  remove  the  impres- 
sion tliat  his  words  had  created,  as'-ned  the  misciiievoiis 
smile  which  he  liad  worn  so  often  of  old.  "  IJut  do  not 
ivj)eat  the  jest  to  any  one  else  !" 

"I  shall  not,  Ida.  I  merely  wished  to  test  your  credu- 
lity. Ihit  here  comes  Mr.  (Juthrie  whh  my  bride."  ]{ising, 
he  took  Amue's  hand,  and  drew  it  within  Ins  arm.  "SeJ 
how  gladly  I  receive  her.  Arthur,  there  is  a  call  for  a 
waltz.     I  know  you  are  never  too  weary  to  dance." 

Nor  was  his  partner,  the  young  lady  to  whom  it  was 
by  this  time  known  he  was  engaged;  and  many,  as  tliey 
looked  after  them,  while  they  wondered  that  Mr.  Ashtoii 
shotdd  consent  to  the  marriage  of  his  daughter  with  a 
young  man  whose  reputation  had  been  of  late  rumored  to 
be  somewhat  doubtful,  owned  that  in  outward  seeming 
at  least  they  were  perfectly  matched. 

A  week  later  Aldeane  received  from  her  friend  a  full 
account  of  this  "  merry  wedding,"  together  with  some 


156 


ALDEANK. 


Bhrowd  conjectures  coneeruins  the  state  of  min<l  of  the 
their  old  acquaintance,  George  Raymond,  toward  her 
pupil;  and  Htniniiely  it  appeure.l  even  to  her,  rcn.ember- 
inc  though  Hhe  did  hin  niysteriouH  and  gloomy  character, 
Hhe  trembled  for  the  welfare  of  Leonorc  Aren.lell,  and 
daily  prayed  and  longed  for  her  safe  and  speedy  return 
to  the  Hcelusion  of  her  home. 

And  meanwhile  she  willed  to  hear  her  own  gneft 
calndy ;  and  though  she  could  not  ignore  them,  or  even 
wish  to  do  so,  she  wept  but  few  vain  tears  over  them, 
and  summoned  her  brightest  smiles  to  welcome  the  news 
of  the  happiness  of  her  brother  and  her  dearest  Incnd- 
thc  happiness  which,  she  highed,  could  never  be  her  own. 


Nc 

an( 

mo 

in 

Be 

eni 


ofl 
ing 
hat 
wo 
of 

OUH 
80 

dro 

lier 

I 

haf 
froi 
Ills 
Bui 


exc 
cha 


to  of  mind  of  tho 
lond,  toward  her 
to  her,  rtincmbor- 
glooniy  charftcttr, 
lore  Ari'iitlcU,  and 
vnd  speedy  return 

ir  her  own  griefs 
lore  them,  or  even 

tears  over  tliem, 
wek'ome  the  news 
[•r  dearest  friend — 

never  he  her  own. 


C II  APT  Ell    XX. 


LEONOUKS   8TU.\N(JK    I.OVEIl. 


TiiK  newly-wedded  ])air  sjient  tlie  following;  month  iu 
New  York,  and  returned  home  to  B]>end  the  ChristniuH 
and  New  Year's  festivities,  'I'he  Aren(U'lls  and  Mr.  Hay- 
mond  had,  meanwliik',  spent  the  time  at  3Ior>;anvak'  and 
in  Jloston  alternately,  amid  a  round  of  <jayeties,  in  wliieh 
Belle  Asliton,  notwitlistaiuliiig  lier  j)ubliely  announced 
engagement,  was  still  a  star. 

She  stood  hy  the  fire  upon  the  afternoon  of  the  last  day 
of  the  Old  Year,  laughingly  thinking  how  Arthur  had  jest- 
ingly commented  upon  this  tho  last  tune  they  met,  and 
had  said  if  he  were  not  the  most  reasonable  being  in  tho 
world  he  would  be  fearfully  jealous  of  these  gay  butterflies 
of  wealth  and  fashion,  and  proudly  saying  that  such  jeal- 
ousy would  be  the  height  of  absurdity,  for  who  was  half 
80  handsome,  so  good,  so  talented  as  he,  when  a  sleigh 
drove  up  to  the  door,  to  which  she  hastened,  as  she  saw 
her  lover  alight. 

lie  M-as  accompanied  by  Chester  Ilalcomln?,  who,  per- 
haps purposely,  lingered  on  the  porch,  shaking  the  snow 
from  his  hat  and  shoiddcrs,  until  tho  greeting  between 
his  partner  and  their  lovely  hostess  had  been  effected. 
But  presently,  when  Belle,  with  the  most  brightly  glow- 
ing cheeks,  looked  out  ujjon  liim,  he  hastened  toward  her, 
exclaiming : — 

"How  do  you  do.  Miss  Ashton  ?  You  are  lookini; 
chai-ming,  as  usual.     I  should  have  paid  my  respects  to 


Vo*^ 


A  L  D  K  A  A'  /•;. 


Hu.h  lK.u.tv  »K-r..n.,l.»t  truly,  this  huow  h  tlw  most  a^ho- 
Mvc  it  lias  I'vor  l...<-n  my  lot  to  .luountrr! 

"  You  nn«  ....rlr-'tlv  .■xn.sul.lo  !"  si...  .v,.h..l,  shaU.nK 
l,;,„.ls  with  hi.n  luartily.  AuotluT  sl^i.^d.  at  that  mo- 
,„.,,|  stn,,|,..,l  at  th..  ^atc,  HU.l  she  was  s...m  biisily 
;:;;;,,..l  il.  vv..h-.,uin,  tl...  An.n.UHs,  Mr  nn,l  Mrs. 
Mur-an,  an.l  Mr.  l{ayu...n.l.  Castm-  as„l,.  h.r  in. 
,.l„ak  lA.>n.,n'  ran  to  the  fnTplaco,  aiul  took  a  scat  m  a 
low  cimi'  hi.-h  she  (Irow-  Host-  to  ih..  tir..,  rxolamnntr  :- 
"Such  n.hi  w.athcr!     It    is  cn-.u-h  to  troi/e- <uu' .     1 

can  not  ciiduro  tin-  cold.'"  . 

Mr  Haymon.l  orossial  tho  room,  aii.l  hanin-^'  a-amst 
the  mantel,  hmkcl  th-.u-htfully  down  ui-.n  her. 

"Comc,Lconorc!"  said  .Mrs.  Arcn.UU,  as  tho  party 
left  the  parlor  to  tfo  to  the  drcssinii-rooms. 

"  In  a  numu.nt,  n.anuna  !  hut  1  dcch.rc,  I  can  move 
iH.fon-  1  ^'..t  a  little  thawe.l  (.ut.  Oh,  .  ear  !  I  shall  Iree/.e 
before  I  «j;et  South  aiiain !"  .       •     i    m, 

"Then  you   woul.l   not   like  Canada?"  in-iuired   .Mr. 

Uavmond,  in  a  low  voice.  „  i    i     u 

Uer  lace  crimsoned,  as  she  replied    simi.ly,      1  don  t 

know,  sir." 

"  It  is  very  <'ol<l  there,"  he  waid. 

She  rose  to  her  feet,  shiverin-  slii^htly,  and  ,)ick.U|^  up 
lu.r  fur  mantle,  hurried  from  the  n.otn  thinkmg,  "  ^^  hat 
can  he  m.^an  ?     ( )h  !  what  can  he  mean  V" 

"  Why,  Le.,nore,  your  face  is  crnnson  !"  e.)aoul:ited  ^Irs. 
Arendefl,  as  she  entered  the  room. 

"Yes"  she  murmured,  as  .she  turned  to  the  mirror. 
"It  is  Buch  a  change  from  intense  cold  to  this  fervent 

IJ'  seomel  to  be  a  merry  party  that  met  at  Rose 
Cotta-e,  to  see  the  oM  year  out,  and  welcome  the  new 
one  in!  Mr.  llalcombe  and  Mr.  Ashton  were  in  cxtr.ava- 
jjant  spirits.  And  privately  l.e-ed  Arthur  to  leave  the 
liuv  oiliee  behind  him  for  once;  advice,  which  in  spite  ol 


i 


I 


re 
M 

all 
re 
to 


IIK 

pr 
lit 

he 
en 
ha 

W£ 

foi 
oy 
am 
liir 
dc! 
of 
mil 
ph, 

hill 

rec 

tO-( 

sea 

six 
( 

wai 
wai 

visi 

(I 

son 


A  IDE  A  yiJ. 


150 


i-;  tlic  most  aiUiP- 

•r!" 

i<|.litil,  shakintj 
t.'mli  at  tliat  niii- 
wiiH  8()<>n  l>n>ily 
i,  Mr.  a  11.1  Mrs. 
jic  asiilc  lur  t'lr 
111  tiMik  a  Meat  in  a 
lire,  I'xclainrmu:: — 

t(l  t'lVl/A'  oil*' !      1 

i.l  Icanins;  nyaiiiNt 

11)11)11  hi'i'. 

,1.11,  aH  the  party 

DlllS. 

■laiv,  I  ran't  move 
rai- !  I  shall  tVuoze 

ila?"  iiuniirt<l   Mr. 

[   Huni.ly,  "1  ilon't 


itly,  anil  pifkinij;  up 
in  ihiiikiiiL!:,  "What 

111  r 

II !"  cjaoulati'd  !Mr». 

•nod   to  the  mirror, 
•old  to  this  iorvont 

that  met  at  Koso 
d  welcome  the  new 
itoii  were  in  oxtrava- 

Arthur  to  leave  the 
ee,  which  in  spite  of 


rpcppt  vcxfttioHB  ho  was  not  nlow  in  tnlK)wiii}».  Dr. 
Morjian,  his  wile  said,  was  still  afllietcd  with  the  nervous 
afVectioii,  willi  which  he  had  liceii  Innililed  eve  r  since  his 
refiini  from  ihr  Snulli,  tiioiitjli  he  evidently  endeavored 
to  Cree  hiniselt'ol' the  tnnihlesonie  disease. 

Leoiiorc  indnlu;cd  unrestrainedly  in  inirlli  an<l  laiiLrh- 
ler;  seeniinu;  to  enjoy  her  jxaiiie  at  wiiist,  with  Mr. 
IJayinoud  for  partner,  with  a  zest  and  noise,  altoLTct her 
iiK'ompatihlc  with  the  rules  of  the  yame.  To  her  sur- 
prise, Helle  discovered  Mr.  Uayinond  reLtardiiiL,'  tlie  i^ay 
I  little  Southerner  with  an  anxious,  troiihlcd  look,  whilo 

he  replied  to  her  merry  sallies.  What  obstacle  could 
cross  the  smooth  fiath  of  his  love?  For  no  constant 
had  been  liis  attendance  on  Leonore  since  Dr.  McM-yan's 
weddinjx,  that  all  took  it  for  f;ranted,  that  he  was  a  suitor 
for  her  hand,  and  believed  he  had  found  favor  in  her 
eyes;  while  his  distiii,<,'iiished  appearance;  his  wealth, 
iind  social  jiosition,  could  not  fail  to  strongly  recommend 
him  to  her  family.  Why,  then,  that  troubled,  almost 
despairing  look  i  Hello  thought  she  had  found  a  solution 
of  the  mystery,  when  he  said,  "Come,  Miss  Leonore,  we 
must  win  to-night.  Perhaps,  it  is  the  last  time  wc  shall 
play  together." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Leonore,  glancing  at 
him  apprehensively. 

"I  have  to  start  for  Canada  immediately.  I  have 
received  a  stern  reprimand  from  my  senior  partner 
to-day.  The  time  has  passed  so  jjleasantly,  that  I  can 
scarcely  realize  that  I  have  been  absent  from  Toronto 
six  weeks." 

"I  thought,"  said  Arthur,  "that  your  partnership 
M-as  merely  nominal,  Th.at  your  presence  at  Toronto 
Avas  unnecessary.  One  would  think  so,  from  your  long 
visits  to  England,  France,  and  many  of  the  States." 

"It  is  as  you  say,"  replied  Mr.  liaymoiid.  "Yet 
sometimes  I  am  wanted.     Such  is  the  case  at  present." 


160 


AIDE  AN  E. 


«  And  must  you  Cfo  soon?"  inquire!  Leonoro,  in  p.  low 
voice,  making  a  misilcal  in  her  contusion. 

"Yes,"  he  rcturnea,  taking  uy,  his  canls,  an<.  exaniin- 
ing  them  attentively.  "I  am  sorry  it  is  so,  but  IMr. 
P<.irson  is  very  imperative." 

"So,  I  supi)ose  we  shall  sec  you  no  more  this  winter, 
Mr.  Kavmond,"  said  IJcUe.  ,      ,     i      f 

«I  pi-esume  not,  Miss  Ashton,"  he  answered,  a  look  of 
exauisite  i.ain  passing  over  his  face  as   he  glanced  at 
X t^vho  regarded  him  sorrowfully.  "But  while  I  am 
in  this  charmed  circle,  'Away  dull  cai-e  '    The  cokl  and 
darkness  will  come  soo-i  enough  after  I  leave  you. 

Leonore  sighed.     "  We  shall  miss  you  very  much,  ]«r. 

^^"^'Noribr  lone,  I  guess!"  he   returned,  with  a  forced 
laugh,  and   an   attempt   at   gayety,  which   failed  most 

"Tcloud  seemed  to  have  fallen  upon  the  merriment  of  all 
>vithin  hearing  of  this  conversation.     With  the  intuitive 
Bympathy  of  woman,  Belle   felt  all  that  was  passing  m 
Leoiore's  heart,  and  knew  the  changmg  emotions  that 
flushed  or  paled  her  cheeks.     And  when,  at  a  late  hour, 
the    party    wen    preparing   to   return    to   Morganva  e 
Belle  insisted  that  she  should  not  again  encounter    he 
chill  midnight  air ;  hut  urged  her  to  regain  with  he.-  ior  the 
nic^ht;  for  she  rightly  conjectured,  that  the  mght  ^vould 
W^.asU  away  in  tears  in  the  solitude  o    her  chambei-, 
when   the   presence  of  another  would   check  her   grief 
Leonore  gladly  accepted  the  ipvitation  and,  as  the  others 
were  about  to  depart,  Dr.  :Morgan  said :— 

"No  doubt,  I^Ir.  Raymond  will  be  happy  to  come  foi 
you  in  the   morning,  Nora.     If  not,  I  will   do  so  my- 

self  " 

"'l  had  already  promised  myself  that  pleasure  1'  inter- 
posed Mr.  Raymond,  "and  I  assure  you  I  do  not  wish 
to  be  deprived  of  it." 


yoii 

wilt 

nov 

t( 

Dr. 

dep 
rate 
of  e 
L 
shoi 
put 
hon 
besi 

s: 

iiig 

dep! 

A 

auoi 

hoj)( 

(( 

B 

hcai 

Iloi 


you 

u 

Phil 
was 


the  f 
so  lo 
take 


Leonorc,  in  p.  low 

1. 

mis,  iinu  pxarain- 

t  is  so,  but  ;Mr, 

more  this  wiuter, 

iswori'd,  a  look  of 
as  lio  glanced  at 
,  "  But  while  I  am 
c !'  The  cold  and 
:  leave  you." 
3U  very  much,  ^Ir. 

ned,  with  a  forced 
vhich   failed  moat 

he  merriment  of  all 
With  the  intuitive 
hat  was  passing  in 
^ing  emotions  that 
hen,  at  a  late  hour, 
n  to  Morganvale, 
gain  encounter  the 
iiain  with  her  for  the 
!vt  the  night  would 
ie  of  her  chamber, 
d  cheek  her  grief, 
n  and,  as  the  others 
d:— 

I  happy  to  come  for 
,  I  will  do  so  my- 

lat  pleasure !"  inter- 
t  you  I  do  not  wish 


ALDEAXJ-J,  161 

Leonore  bowed,  saying :  "  VMiat  time  may  I  expect 
you,  tlien  y" 

"  At  about  ten  o'clock,  Miss  Arendell !  I  doubt 
whether  I  should  find  you  up  before ;  your  drooping  lids 
now  atte'it  your  weariness." 

"  Then  let  us  go  before  she  falls  asleep !"  inteiTupted 
Dr.  JMorgan.  ftiaking  their  adieus,  the  company  hastily 
departed,  leaving  the  Aslitons  and  their  guests  to  sepa- 
rate witli  many  confiicting  emotions  agitating  tlie  bosoms 
of  each. 

Leonore  joyfully  assented  to  Belle's  proposal  that  she 
should  share  her  apartment.  After  the  lights  had  been 
I)ut  out,  and  darkness  and  silence  brooded  over  the 
house,  Belle  Avas  not  surprised  to  find  the  slender  form 
beside  her  shaking  with  i)ainfully  suppressed  sobs. 

She  let  her  weep  for  some  time  unrestrainedly,  know- 
ing well  that  the  cause  of  her  grief  was  the  contemplated 
departure  of  ]Mr.  Raymond. 

At  last,  in  order  to  turn  her  thoughts,  if  possible,  into 
another  chamiel,  she  said,  cheeifuUy :  "  Not  homesick,  I 
hoj)e,  Leonore." 

"  No — yes,"  she  sobbed. 

Belle  kissed  her  wet  cheek,  saying  kindly,  "  There  are 
hearts  that  love  you  here,  as  well  as  there,  Leonore." 

"  Yes,  but  I  want  to  see  the  children  and  Miss  Aldeanc. 
I  love  her  so  much,  she  is  so  good  to  every  one." 

"  She  is,  indeed,  I  long  to  see  her ;  but  don't  cry,  dear, 
you  will  soon  return  home." 

"  Not  until  spring,  pa  says.  We  are  to  go  back  through 
Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  and  Washington.  Oh,  I  wish  it 
was  all  over  with." 

"  Why,  Leonore  ?" 

"  Oh,  because ."  A  fresh  burst  of  tears  interrupted 

the  sentence,  but  at  last  she  said,  hesitatingly,  "  It  will  be 
so  lonely  when  Mr.  Raymond  is  gone.  You  know  he  has 
taken  me  everywhere  in  and  around  Boston,     lie  is  so 


163 


ALDEANE. 


vorv  handsome !  Don't  yon  think  so,  Miss  Ik-Ue  ?  It  is 
stran-o  that  any  one  so  dark  shonkl  be  handsome;  lie  is 
«hirkc"r  than  ^h:  Gnthrio."  i       •  , 

Belle  made  no  reply,  Leonoro  wept  on,  bnt  the  violence 
cf  her  grief  was  soon  exhansted,  and  wearied  out,  hUc 
soon  beeame  calmer. 

"  Doubtless,"  said  Belle,  "  Mr.  Kaymond  w.ll  soon  come 
back;  he  travels  so  much,  that  I  truly  believe  he  will.    ^^ 

"  Do  you,  indeed.  Miss  Ashton  ?     Oh,  1  am  so  glad, 
and  like  a  comforted  child,  Leonore  fell  into  a  ^eep  sleep, 
and  Belle  knew  that  her  object  was  attained,  and    ondly 
romembening  her  own  happiness,  prayed  earnestly  loi 
that  ofher  gentle  little  friend.  ,    ,      , 

Mr.  Kaymond,  as  he  had  promised  to  do,  came  at  about 
noon  the  foUomng  day  to  escort  Miss  Arendel    home 
and  Belle  was  greatly  disappointed,  when  she  met  tla-m  at 
Mor-anvale,  a  few  hours  later,  where  they  were  engage.l 
for  the  New  Year's  dinner,  to  discover  no  trace  ot  any 
satisfactory  explanation  having  taken  place  between   hein, 
and  that  evening  informed  Arthur  in  conhdence  that  it 
Georoe   Ilaymond  did  not  declare  his  love  lor  Leonore 
befoiC  he  left  Morganvale,  she  should  believe  him  to  be 
an  unprincipled  villain. 

And  this  opinion  of  his  character  was  assuredly  hers, 
when  he  lefV,  them  two  days  later,  without  making  the 
expected  declaration,-at  lea.t  if  the  evident  sadness  ot 
LeUore  and  the  general  reticence  ^.^^^"^f^"^ 
were  to  be  taken  as  evidence ;  and  Miss  Belle  Ash  on,  m 
no  measured  terms,  expressed  her  indignation  to  Aldeane 
Guthrie,  and,  strangely  enough,  relieved  her  of  a  load  o 
anxieties  and  fears  which  had  unaccountably  weighed 
down  her  heart  and  mind.  And  tlKreafter  ,t  was  much 
easier  for  her  to  await  patiently  the  time  when  she  should 
again  clasp  in  her  arms  her  innocent,  loving,  and  beloved 

^'"But  before  that  time  came,  she  had  fresh  troubles  of 


hei 

OV( 

lea 

ho- 

del 

nst 

ma 

thi) 

Bu 

po\ 

teri 

int 

be  I 

her 

his 

A 

fror 

in  i 

torr 


L 


]Miss  HoUe  ?     It  ia 
e  handsome ;  ho  is 

)n,  but  tlio  violence 

I  wearioil  out,  t^ho 

lontl  will  soon  come 
'  believe  he  will." 
)h,  I  am  so  glad," 

II  into  a  deep  sleep, 
tained,  and  fondly 
rayed  earnestly  for 

,0  do,  came  at  about 
iss  Arondell  home, 
hen  she  met  them  at 
thev  were  engasjed 
er  no  trace  of  any 
place  between  them, 
1  contidencp,  that  if 
lis  love  for  Leonons 
1  believe  him  to  be 

was  assuredly  hers, 
-without  making  the 
L'  evident  sadness  of 
if  all  at  Morganvale 
^liss  Belle  Ashton,  in 
lignation  to  Aldeane 
•ved  her  of  a  load  of 
iceountably  weighed 
ereafter  it  was  nmcli 
time  when  she  should 
t,  loving,  and  beloved 

lad  fresh  troubles  of 


ALDEANE. 


168 


her  own  to  enconnter;  the  hateful  attentions  of  the  ex- 
overseer  were  continually  jjressed  upon  her,  and  she  had 
learned,  too,  long  before  this,  without  knowing  why  or 
how,  that  he  possessed  a  certain  power  over  Colonel  Aron- 
dell which  would  render  any  appeal  from  her  perfectly 
useless,  and  slie  knew  that  she  must  fight  alone  with  this 
man  her  battl(>,  and  firmly  resolved,  let  what  would  come, 
that  she  would  never  yield.     Not  that  he  threatened  her.' 
But  she  fancied  that  h(>  had  shown  her  that  it  was  in  his 
power  to  do  so.     He  had  spoken  of  her  mother  in  mys- 
terious tones,  and  he  had  told  lier,  if  she  had  one  eneiny 
in  the  world— and  he  Jiad  Jiinted  that  tliat  enemy  mi<rl,t 
be  Iier  step-father— he  would  ruin  liim,  and  do  more  for 
her,  and  hers,  than  he  dared  mention,  if  she  would  but  be 
his  wife. 

^  All  this  he  said  to  her,  and  yet  she  could  gain  nothing 
from  him  that  would  make  his  purpose  or  her  intercs't 
in  it  clearer,  and  so  doubting,  fearing,  yet  defying  licr 
tormentor,  Aldeane  passed  the  long  and  lonely  winrer. 


ha 


!S0( 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

leonobk's  little  secret. 

FvBTY  in  April  the  Aronadls  were  expected  home. 
Frank  and  Eddie  insisted  upon  aoeompanying  the  ear- 
riate  to  iLinc.  to  meet  them.     Aldeane  and  Jessje  we  e 
;S  "i  ;>rd.  impatiently  waiting  tlu^  ar^a^  whde 
Aunt  lloxy  and  her  aids  bustled  in  and  out  ot  the  kitcbcn 
fo   he  dinin.-room  and  pantries,  in  hopeless  contusion 
over  thl  dimier  in  preparation  i-  their  wdco-     A. 
deane  vainly  endeavored  to  induce  Jessie  to  be  still     she 
So  UttleLcuisions  to  the  gate,  then  flvrther  on  to  the 
Wgc,  returning  each  time  with  the  mournt-d  mtelh- 
crence,"  They  ain't  a-commg  yet." 

"Tldeane  was  scarcely  less  anxious  than  her  pup  Is  o 
see  he  travelers  back  again.  The  winter  months  had 
;red  dLrily,  but  on  account  of  ^-r  doub  e  ^ties,  she 
had  had  but  little  time  for  sorrowful  reflections,     bo 

ad  doffed  her  mourning  garments,  and  the  plain  blue 
dress  2  wore  harmonised  well  with  her  bright  comp  ex- 
fon  g ivin.'  her  a  more  cheerful  appearance  than  she  had 

vonf  for  many  months.     Smiles  of  pleased  expectation 

oo  passed  over  her  face,  effectually  ^^estroyuig  every 
,.1  AtioQ*^t1i    paiTia"e.  srceted  l)V  a  sumii 

trace  ot  sadness.     At  last  in    c.uii<i.-,<-,»'^  . 

ot^  oy  from  the  negroes,  appeared  in  view.  Kunning  dow  i 
li  ^alk,  Aldeane  caught  Leonore  in  her  ---;^,^- 
scended  from  the  carriage,  receivmg  lier  hi.t  kis  w  k, 
Jessie  climbed  into  the  carriage  to  her  mothei,  ovu- 
'  helming  her  with  caresses.  Colonel  Arendell  greeted 
Aldeane  cordially,  exclaiming  :  — 


spi 
th( 
to 
hn 

■'H 
rec 
chi 
an( 
en' 
wli 
lov 
"I 
"I 

hui 

] 

ter 

cla 
1 

t\V( 

tak 

yoi 

<< 

nor 

nes 

(I 

a  p 
I 

wei 
and 


A  LD  EANK. 


165 


I. 


KT, 


•e  cxpectocl  home, 
npanying  the  car- 
ne  and  Jessie  were 
their  arrival,  while 
i  out  of  the  kitchen 
hopeless  contusion 
lieir  Avelcome.  Al- 
ssie  to  be  still ;  she 
m  ftvrther  on  to  the 
le  mournf"!  nitelli- 

than  her  pupils,  to 
winter  months  had 
r  dovible  duties,  she 
\il  reflections.     She 
and  the  plain  blue 
her  bright  coraplex- 
arancc  than  she  had 
pleased  expectation 
y  destroying  every 
fe,  greeted  by  a  shout 
iow.    Itunning  down 
II  her  arms  as  she  de- 
r  lior  first  kiss,  while 
o  her  mother,  over- 
nel  Arendell  greeted 


"Wiiy!  Aliss  (iuthrie,  liow  well  you  look!  So  you 
have  ]>ut  oil"  mourning  in  honor  of  our  arrival,  eh?" 

"  Yes,  sir !"  she  rei>lied.  "  I  assure  you  I  am  so  glad  to 
see  you  back  tliat  I  can  not  testify  my  joy  sufhciently." 

The  servants  gathered  around  the  travelers,  M'ho,  after 
speaking  to  tiiem,  made  their  way  into  the  house,  and  to 
their  own  apartments.  They  soon  met  at  the  dinner-tabl(>, 
to  discuss  that  Avelcome  meal.  The  trunks  had  all  been 
brought  info  the  hall,  and  tliey  were  opened,  displaying 
a  great  variety  of  presents  for  the  servants,  Avhich  they 
received  with  m"-  v  manifestations  of  delight.  A  bright 
chintz  dress  and  a  large  pair  of  ear-rings  ibr  Aunt,  Koxy, 
and  ii  vest  of  showy  ])attern  for  Jule,  causing  the  most 
envy.  Leonoro  distributed  the  gifts  to  the  little  negroes, 
who  had  assembled  together  in  tlie  yard.  One  little  fel- 
low was  throwing  pebbles  at  some  birds  in  the  trees. 
"Don't  throw  stones  at  the  birds,  Len,"  said  Leonore. 
"  I  have  otlen  forbidden  you  to  do  it." 

"  Lor'  I  missus,  'tain't  nothin'  but  a  little  rock,  'twon't 
hurt  the  birds." 

He  threw  it  with  tmerring  aim,  and  a  sparrow  fell  flut- 
tering to  the  ground. 

"You  are  a  bad  I'-.y,  Len!  a  very  bad  boy!"  ex- 
claimed  Leonore. 

Ifis  mother  sprang  out  of  the  jiorch  and  administered 
two  or  three  sounding  slaps  to  the  offender.  "  Dere  now, 
take  dat !  Ain't  yer  ashamed  to  act  dat  way  afore  yer 
young  missus !" 

"  I  am  afraid  yon  ore  a  very  bad  boy,  Len !"  said  Leo- 
nore, gravely.  "Id  n't  believe  that  there  is  any  good- 
ness in  you." 

"Oh!  yes,  missus,  dere  is!"  he  whimpered.  "  Dere's 
a  plenty  in  me,  but  it  stays  dar ;  it  won't  come  out !" 

Leonore  turned  aside  to  conceal  a  smile,  the  negroes 
went  away  to  the  kitchen  to  sound  the  praises  of"  raass'r 
and  missus  "  and  to  inspect  anew  thei.  treasures. 


1H6 


ALDEANE. 


Aldcano  and  the  ohiiaivn  were  not  forgotten.  Tho 
Arendells  presented  lier  with  many  eostly  artieles ;  while 
a  hiruce  roll  of  mnwie,  some  new  liooks,  and,  .ibove  all, 
niiniirtnres  of  themselves,  were  the  joint  olferings  of 
Arthnr  and  IJelle. 

Leonore  seemed  delighted  to  be  again  at  lu)nie.  She 
entertained  Al.leane,  the  children,  and  servants  with  ani- 
mated deseriptions  of  her  travels,  telling  oi"  all  the  par- 
ties she  had  attended,  and  the  places  she  had  visited, 
which  were  entered  by  the  slaves  upon  their  catalogne 
of  the  wonderful.  Happily  for  Aldeane,  Doctor  JNIorgau's 
wedding  had  become  an  old  thing,  and  it  was  only  men- 
tioned casually.  Aldeane  was  deeply  gratified  by  this 
reticence,  as  she  had  feared  a  betrayal  of,  or  at  least  a 
deep  trial  to,  her  feelings,  should  the  subject  be  fully  in- 
troduced. She  listened  eagerly  to  all  concerning  Arthur 
and  Belle.  Of  their  engagement  she  had  heard  from 
l)oth.  Deeply  thankful  was  she  that  her  brother  and  her 
dearest  friend,  Avith  nmtual  love  and  trust,  were  to  tread 
life's  path  together. 

A  few  days  after  the  return  of  the  Arendells,  Jule  en- 
tered the  room  with  a  number  of  letters,  which  he  gave 
to  Colonel  Arendell. 

"  Any  for  me,  papa  ?"  inquired  Leonore,  eagerly. 

He  looked  at  them.  "  Two  for  Miss  Guthrie ;  one  for 
Mrs.  Arendell;  three  for  J.  C. ;  and,  yes!  surely,  one  for 
Miss  Leonore  Arendell !  Why  !  who  can  it  be  from  Y" 
he  said,  looking  at  her  slyly. 

"  Oh  I  papa,  please  give  it  to  me !"  she  exclaimed, 
blushing ;  and,  snatching  the  letter  from  his  hand,  she 
hastened  from  the  room. 

INIrs.  Arendell   smiled   and,  glancuig  at   the   colonel, 

said, — 

"  Dear  child  I  that  letter  contains  at  least  a  week's  hap- 
piness for  her.  Aldeane,  we  have  not  yet  told  you— but 
it  is  as  well  for  you  to  know— that  our  Nora  is  engaged 


ALDBANE. 


1<!7 


>t  forgot  tfii.  Tho 
stly  artioles;  whilo 
ks,  and,  .ibovc  all, 
joint    otreiiiigs    of 

;aiii  at  homo.  She 
I  servants  with  ani- 
ling  v.i"  all  the  par- 
es she  had  visited, 
•on  their  catalogue 
ic,  Doctor  JNIorgau's 
id  it  was  only  mon- 
ly  gratified  by  this 
yal  of,  or  at  least  a 
subject  bo  fully  in- 
.  concerning  Arthur 
le  had  heard  from 
her  brother  and  her 
trust,  were  to  tread 

Arendells,  Jule  en- 
ters, which  he  gave 

)nore,  eagerly. 
isa  Guthrie ;  one  for 
yes !  surely,  one  for 
0  can  it  be  fromV" 

le!"  she   exclaimed, 
from  his  liand,  she 

ing  at  the  colonel, 

it  least  a  week's  hap- 
ot  yet  told  you — but 
)ur  Nora  is  engaged 


.Mr.  Oeorgc  Ifaymond,  of  Toronto." 

"  rn.lee.l !  I  :un  exceedingly  surprised,"  she  ex.Iaimod 
|nost  tnu  n,lly.  "  She  has  often  ^ntte.;  to  nu.:;*');  7  i 
tc'nns  oh,^h  praise,  but  I  had  no  i.lca  that  they  Mere 
e.;gaged !     I  thought  that  they  finally  separated  i,f  Jan,;: 

V  !1!^  v'  "r '  'r  ""'*  '"'"  "'"^^''-^'-^''^^  q'"te  accidentallv,  in 
ACM  York.  I  Hnpp<.se  Leonore  has  been  keepin-/ her 
se<-ret  or  oral  eonnnnni,.ation.  Vo„  ,„ust  go  to  her  to,- 
j-t.eulars.  The  only  objection  we  have  t^  it  at  ail  i" 
na  he  urges  an  inunediate  union;  and  she,  one  can 
H'a*l>Iy  see,  ,s  not  averse  to  it.  So  we  have  given  our 
consent  for  them  to  be  niarrie.l  in  June  " 
"So  soon  !"  ejaculated  Al(h>ane. 

is  vl2  /  ^"7  'u  '  ''  '"''^  '''^•■'  ^"J?».'?''™-"n  and  she 
>«  joung,  bui  Mr.  Raymond  is  not;  and  we  place  such 
1-tect  contidence  in  him  that  we  do  not  fear  for  her  w' 
tare,"  returned  3Irs.  Arendell. 

Aldeane  asked  no  more;  but,  soon  after  reading  her 
c"  ters,  one  o    wluch  was  fronx  Jiclle,  who  descanted  at 
K-gth  upon  the  "sweet  little  house  pa  is  building  for  u 

^oono.e  s  apartment  opened  it,  and  found  her  absorbed 
111  the  perusal  of  Jier  letter. 

"  Come  in  Miss  Aldea.ie  !"  she  «aid,  liiling  up  her  eyes, 
i nil  of  joyful  tears.  ^       '  '-J'^»> 

Aldeane   approached  Jier,  and   smoothing   down   her 
W„  curls,  sai.I  softly,  "I  know  all  about^it,  Leonor" 

choL !"  '^  ^'°"      "''^'^  '^''^  ''^'  '^"''^••'^"'i  «*■  y°»^' 

"Has  papa  told  you  all?"  Inquired  Leonoro,  blushing. 
Aothmgbutthe  name  and  position  of  vour  betrothed, 
le  referred  me  to  you  f<,r  particula.-s,  and  indeed  I  am 
.nost   anxious   to   hear  them,  for  I  was  once  well  ac- 
quainted with  Mr.  liaymond." 


168 


ALDEANE. 


"  ^\.8  I  know  yon  wero,  my  dearest  aiirlhiC;,"  ex- 
HaimcMl'  Looiu.ro,  kissinji  her,  as  if  her  worth  wus 
ineroased  a  thousand-ibhl  by  that  fact.  "  An<l  isn  t  he 
handsome,  my  dear  Miss  Al.U-ane,  and  so  k>arned  and 
HO  majestic  altoselher.  Isn't  it  the  greatest  wonder  m 
the  worhl  that  lie  ever  took  any  notiec  of  me  V" 

"Such  a  plain  little  creatnrc!"  laughed  Aldeane 
.^avly  and  vet  with  that  unaccountable  siTiking  of  heart 
wh'ieh  had  always  come  upon  her  at  the  thought  of  this 
event,  over  which  she  was  expeete.l,  and  earnestly 
endeavored,  to  rejoice;  "and  now  tell  mo,  my  own,  how 
tins  miracle  was  brought  about,  how  he  ever  descended 
from  his  height  t»  look  at  you."  ^^ 

"Ah,  now  I  1-now  you  are  laughing  at  mo,  crie.l 
Leonoro,  blushing,  and  pinching  the  che<'k  of  her  friend  ; 
"but  indeed,  though  you  say  it  in  fun,  I  tlnnk  it  was  n 
nuracle.     Even  now,  I  can  scarcely  believe  he  loves  me. 

"I  used  to  think  him  very  truthful,"  remarked 
Aldeane,  with  mock  gravity,  a-ul  then  Leonore  pmched 
her  cheek  again,  and  when  Aldeane  entreated  her  •'  to 
tell  her  all  about  it,"  she  said  she  Avould  only  do  it  on 
condition  that  Aldeane  made  no  more  confusing  re- 
marks, but  listened  to  her  in  silence  from  begmmng  to 

end.  ^ 

To  this  Aldeane  very  readily  agreed,  and  Leonore 
iielif'htedly  began  the  relation  of  the  great  event  of  her 
life^an  event'which  in  strangeness  and  joyfulncss  she 
firmly  believed  had  never  been  equaled,  "because  he 
loves  me  so,  you  know,"  she  could  not  help  pausing  to 

explain,  .         ,, ,    ^  t 

"Certainly,"  said  Aldeane,  pretendmg  pique,'  but  1 

really   think    you   might    have    told    me    your    secret 

before."  .  .        . 

"  And  so  I  ought,"  exclaimed  Leonore,  quite  penitently, 
"  but  it  was  such  a  charming  one  to  keep,  and  grew  so 
much  better  all  the   time.     But  in  fact,"  she  udded 


ALDEANE. 


169 


■arest   darliiit;,"  ex- 
it"  her   worth   was 
act.     "  And  iHii't  ho 
md  so  k>ariuHl,  and 
greatest  wonder  in 
cc  of  nie  V" 
'    laughed    Ahleane 
iblc  siTiking  of  heart 
;  the  thought  of  this 
■ted,   and    earnestly 
L'U  mo,  my  own,  how 
V  he  ever  descended 

xhing  at  me,"  cried 
the<'k  of  her  friend  ; 
fun,  I  think  it  was  n 
believe  he  loves  me.'' 
truthful,"  remarked 
hen  Leonore  i>inehed 
le  entreated  her  ''  to 
would  only  do  it  on 
more  confusing  re- 
;c  from  beginning  to 

ngreed,  and  Leonore 
he  great  event  of  her 
«s  and  joyfulncss  she 
■qualed,  "because  he 
not  help  pausing  to 

ending  pique,  "  but  I 
old    me    your    secret 

more,  quite  penitently, 

to  keep,  and  grew  so 

in   fact,"   she   udded 


seriously,  "  \  n.'ver  knew  how  to  begin,  for  you  never 
asked  me  any  (piestions.  Why  didn't  you,  now?  I 
should  have  asked  a  thousand  questions  if  I  liud  been  in 
your  place." 

Aldeane  laughed,  as  she  answered,  "  I  thought  the 
matter  was  settled  lon<'  airo." 

"Oh,  yes,  when  I  wrote  you  of  his  departure  for 
Canada." 

Aldeaiu!  nodded. 

"  And  so  you  guessed  my  feelings  th.  ,li  I  did  not 
tell  you  a  word,  of  how,  in  secret,  I  v  iev  ^  over  his 
absence,  which  caiised  a  void  in  my  heart  tl  nothing 
could  till,  and  a  pain  that  nothing  could    ssua'c  '" 

"No." 

"  I  believe  Miss  Ashton  guessed  it  all,  ♦hough,  for  she 
was  so  kind  and  gentle  to  me  then,  and  uiterward.     She 
continually   i)rophesied   that   he  w^    Id   return  ;  but  he 
came  not.     We  did  not  correspond,  .  .i  he  letl  me  seem- 
ingly with  the  mere  sorrow  ore  feels  at  breaking  up  a 
pleasant  acquaintanceship,  fully  convincing  me  tliat  ho 
thought  of  me,  merely  as  the  friend  of  an  hour,  while  I 
felt  that  to  me  he  was  the  love  of  a  lifetime.     I  heard  of 
him,  through  his  letters  to  Uncle  Fred,  during  our  stay 
at  Morganvalc,  but  in  a  few  weeks  we  left  there,  and 
went  to  New  York.     Mother  has  many  friends   tjicrc ; 
and  we  lived  very  gayly,  attending  many  parties,  visiting 
the   theaters   and   other   places   of  amusement,  besides 
which,  we  stayed  at  the  most  fashionable  hotel,  where 
there  was  mucli  to  be  seen  to  interest  and   amuse  one. 
But,  notwithstanding  all  these  attractions,  I  was   ill  at 
ease,  and  longed  for  the  quiet  of  home,  and  your  dear 
companionship.  Miss  Aldeane. 

"  One  day,  when  we  hud  been  there  about  two  weeks, 

while  at  the  ainner-table,  to  my  great  surprise  I  saw  ]\Ir. 

Ilaymond  enter,  and  take  a  seat  immediately  opi)Ositc 

me.     He  observed  me  a  moment  atU>rward ;  apparently 

8 


no 


.1  LDKAXi:. 


hiH  Hur,.riH.  was  -.vat.r  tl.au  n.v  .nv..,  n.^llus  o.Mot  on 
to  nu.  tluM.  i,u-v,.ru.al.lo.     \W  l.alf  ro.c  ln..n    ns  .Im.r,  tlu. 
>vhitiM.o>s  of  his  fa.v  trnilyin-  nu'.     n,.t  it  llnslu.l  miu- 
Hon  instanta.u.ously,an.l  l.owi,.,,' i-l't^ly  »'/' >™t*:^»  '!;'"; 
si-lf     Pa  aii.l  ma  wcro  .U-li.rl.tnl  to  nee  hiin,  a.ul  inv.t.d 
him  to  our  i.rivato  apartnu-nts.     Ho  .•ame  an.l  spc-nt  tlu- 
..vonlnir  with  us.     I  was  onlra.u-.-.l  l.y  h.s   c-.mvcrsa t.ou 
an.l   his   calm   majestic   luarint,'.      H-^   'lark   c-yos   that, 
ilaslu-il  alMu.st  licn-dy  ui^.m  otlu-rs,  lu-amc.l  with  -cntl.- 
,u.ss  on   nu..     His  voice  sconu-.l  to  assn.nc  a  l..wcr  k.-y 
juula  <Mvat.r  .Ic-n-c  of  swc-ctnc-ss,  wlu-.i  lu-  a.l.hvssc. 
me       I   waitL-a   with    oai,'crn.-ss    H.r    cv.-ry    word,   an.l 
posscsHcl  exquisite  luMM.iness  if  he  snnle.l  npon  me. 

"  You  mav  think  this  very  f.u.lish,  Miss  AUleane,  l.nt  I 
can  not  help  it.  He  fas.-inates  me.  I  even  tr^-inl.U-  m  h.s 
presence,  while  his  min-l  seems  withont  an  eftort  to  rule 
ny  own  an.l  my  heart  wi.h  it.  1  felt  all  tins  more 
dciply  then  than  1  do  now,  when  I  can  lay  my  hc-a.l 
upon  his  throhl.in-  Wom,  and  smile  away  his  frowns. 

"  But  this  freed..!.,  was  not  easily  ohtan.e.l.  A  herce 
«tru.-rle  sc-cmed  to  a-itate  him  before  he  spoke  those 
words"  that  insure.1  my  happiness.  Father  a.ul  mother 
l,ad  .4one  out  to  speml  the  eveni.,-.  I  had  excused  my- 
Bolf  from  -oin-  with  them,  an.l  was  k-tl  al.)ne  in  .M.r 
apartments,  hut  not  for  lonjr,  there  was  a  knock  at  the 
door,  and  opening  it  1  saw  Mr.  Haymond. 

«'I8  Colonel  Arendell  within  V  he  asked,  after  salutmg 

me.  ,  ^        ,.   , 

" '  No,  pa  and  ma  are  both  out,'  I  replied, 
"'Then   I  will   go  away   again,'  he  said,  eyeing  me 

nervously,  and  turning  the  door  knob,  as  if  he  wished  an 

invitation  to  enter. 

"'Pity  mv  loneliness!'  1  said,  snnling. 

"He  came' in ;  I  took  a  chair  near  the  grate,  pointing  him 

to  one  opposite.     lie  did  i...l  take  it,  l)ut  leaned  against 

the  mantel-piece,   looking   at  me  so   strangely,  that  1 


trcm 

n-rtc. 

Ix-for 

'  Leoi 

Voil, 

■    "I 

could 

gaze 

ail. I  I 

"H 

my  he 

arms, 

"Ii 

for  mc 

as   doi 

hoarse 

perfect 

still  m 

foun.l 

me,  mi 

recomji 

"  I  c. 

look  of 

finable 

deringl 

joy  illu 

those  o 

"Pai 

Raymo 

papa  tc 

taken  e 

him,  fro 

wliich  ] 

IJaymoi 

But,  do 


A  LhtJANE. 


171 


1,  iiinl  Ills  oTiiotioii 
I'nmi  111'*  "liiiir,  l'"' 
\\\\  it  HiisIumI  fiiiii- 
•ly  \\v  rfs»'iU(Ml  liiiii- 
•o  him,  iiiitl  inviti'il 
aino  aii<l  spent  the 
y  liis   ronviTsatiou 
is   tlark   eyes   tliiit 
caimd  with  <reiitU'- 
issnine  a  lower  key 
ttlu'ii   he  addressed 
every    word,    and 
liled  npon  ine. 
Miss  AliUane,  but  I 
even  trenihle  in  his 
out  an  eft'ort  to  rule 

felt   all   this   more 
I  ean  lay  my  head 

away  his  frowns. 

ohtainetl.     A  fierce 
fore   he  spoke  those 

Father  and  mother 

I  hatl  exeused  my- 
iis  left  alone  in  our 

was  a  knock  at  the 
nond. 
!  asked,  after  saluting 

replied. 

he  said,  eyeing  rac 
,b,  as  if  he  wished  an 

iling. 

le  grate,  pointing  him 
it,  but  leaned  against 
60   strangely,  that  I 


trembled  beneath  his  gaze.  .Afy  heart  must  hav  luen 
relhrfe.l  n.  n,y  face,  for  suddenly  he  threw  himself  .lown 
bel-re  me,  elaspincj  „.y  hands  i„  his,  and  ex..Iainu.d, 
l^'onore  !  I.eonore  !  I  am  dying  for  love  of  you  !  Will 
you.     (an  you  love  niej'' 

"I  was  so  ov,.reom..  with  surpris..  and  emotion,  that  I 
<"uid   not    answe..     His    eyes  were  li.v..,l  i„  ,„  •„,,„,,. 
ga/c  upon  nnne.    '  For  Go.l's  sake  UA\  me  r  he  nlea.h.d 
and  I  murmured,  '  Ves.'  ' 

"He  m-emed  overwhehned  with  deliirhf.  As  he  press,.,l 
my  head  against  his  bosom,  and  lu.|d  ,„..  i„  his  stron-' 
arms,  he  whispere.l,  '  And  vou  will  be  my  wifi-  j' 

"I  raised  my  eyes  to  his  face,  that  theV  nn^^ht  answer 
for  me;  a  change  passed  over  him.  lie  iK^ame  as  pale 
Hs  .leath,  .ami  staggerin;.  hack  a  ivy,  paces,  muttered 
l..-rsely,  'Xo!  no!  such  sweetness  „n!l  bem.ty,  .ucll 
perfect  love  and  trust,  can  never  be  mine  '' 

"'They  shall  be  yours  alone!'  I  exclaimed,  clinging 
st.ll  more  closely  to  hun,  for  I  eould  not  lose  n.v  m-w- 
found  happmess  so  quickly.  He  hc-nt  down  an.l'kissed 
me,  murmunng  repeatedly,  'God  wills  it!  It  is  his 
recompense !' 

"I  could  not  bear  the  fierce  light  in  his  eyes,  and  the 
ook  of  ex.dtat.on  with  which  he  regarde.l  me.     An  inde- 
finable fear  crept  into  my  heart.     I  felt  his  caresses  sliud- 
deriiigly,  but  when  I  again  glanced  up,  tenderness  and 
joy  illuin.ncd  his  featuivs,  an<l  the  words  he  spoke  were 
those  of  love  and  cheer;  and  peace  again  filled  my  heart, 
i  apa  readily  gave   his   consent  to  our  union.     Mr 
Kaymond  seemed  so  ,,leased  with  his  confidence,  thou^rh 
papa  told  him  there  was  no  merit   in  that,  as  lie  had 
aken  especial  pains  to  learn  all  particulars  ..o.H.erning 
bin,  from  the  proper  sources.     There  was  one  little  thin- 
jvh.ch  papa  seemed  disposed  to  object  to,  for  even  Mi 
l.aymon.l  couldn't  say  who   and  wJiat   he   reallv  was 
But,  do  you  know,  Aldeano,  I  was  abuost  glad  of  that' 


172 


ALDEASI'- 


lus.Ma.l  .v....  t..  Iwvvo  .<>  sli^l.t  »  thing  ««  good  b.rth  to 
..  .,„"  hIu.  Slid      "  KroiH  what  I  mnciuber  of  hiH  In 

;:::^;;>t-:;;;ir..tion.nagh..ni^ 

Huhject  troul.U.H  bin,,  and  why  Hb<mld  .t  not  yo,.  . 

"IJocaus.  I  h>vo  bin,,  Mi^.  Aldfatu-.     1   h.>^'  bin  .     1 
Hbould  h.v.  hini  still,  if  lu.  was  proved  to  bav.  s,.runix  Iron, 
slowest  of  mankind.     And  whatainVron..  .s  ..,  wl.a 
he  has  boon,  now  that  ho  is  so  highly  rospocto.l  i     I,  to. 

one  am  satistiod.     I  love  him." 

Aftor  Homofnrtboroouvorsation,  Aldoanoktt  tbo  roo.n, 

thinking  doeply  upon  all  sbo  had  b..ard,  in  oounoct.on 
wih  lu«  bandsomo,  yot  woinl-looking  n.an,  who  had  so 
romplotoly  won  tbo  lovo  and  oonfidon.o  oi  Loono. 
Arloll.  That  sbo,  ho  light  boartod  and  gay,  oould 
fv  r   mve  conooivod  a  liking  for  him,  was  to  ho.-  .noon  - 

.1  bensible;  but  as  sbo  bad  horsolf  said  bo  soomod  to  r  0 
oth  bor  mindan<l  hoart.     Sbo  prayod  tbat  U  m.gbt  bo  to. 

g:o;iandbappinos«;butborhoa.awasoppross^^^^^^^^^^ 

tid  misgivings,  whiob  sbo  triod  m  vam  to  "vm-^n^"- 

>  =u-ations  wore  quiotly  mado  for  tbo  wo.bhng.  1  ho 
«ow  .  g-room  was  constantly  opon,  a.ul  soamstrossoswor 
Tsi Iv  omployed  upon  pilos  of  silks  and  bnons,  lacos  and 
erbn.idoiosfovo^vbiob  tho  bride  oloot  kopt  anxious 
Tatcb.  Abkano  was  otlon  oalled  n  to  admire  soi  • 
Jnisbed  a^tick^or  to  be  consulted  with  upon  some  nnpoit- 

'"Thf  music  lessons  wer^  short,  for  Leonore  objoctc^ 
to  practicing.  "She  would  do  so  when  she  had  more 
01^0  Ibr  (loorge  lovod  music;"  but  now  tho  piano  was 
Sver^P  ontiroly  to  Jossio;  and  thus  after  scbool-bou 
AkleanJ  enjovod  full  leisure,  wbicb  she  spent  with  bei 
books  or  the  family,  for  sbo  .Iroado.l  nothing  so  niuc  us 
loT' or  frequent  companionabip  with  her  own  though,  s. 


Til 
.Mr.  I 

liorse 

barn 

oauMo 

tlin'o 

HooMie 

weak 

hopcfi 

]i:id  b 

a  cam 

sofb  ai 

flower 

good. 

)iavo  1 

.•il)peat 

l)ower, 

foreboc 

Leoiior 

sion. 

.VIdean 

<ii'orgo 

She  1 

It  was 

coveroc 

from  he 

the  gen 


Ihcr  .i-siu-ct,  tliul  I 
iijjj  aw  good  birth  t«> 

1  almost  think  you 
.>mciiil)or  of  hi»  iVo- 
,  I  Hhouhl  tliiiik  the 
I  it  not  youV" 
ii(>.  1  love  him.  I 
to  have  Hprunij  from 
(litVi'irui'o  is  it  wliut 
ly  rcsi»octi'(l?     1,  for 

Mvnm  Ml  tlu"  rooni, 
hcunl,  in  I'oniu'Ction 
inif  uiiin,  who  Imil  so 
iiti<U'ino   of   Loonori' 
rtod  and   pi»yi  ^'O"''^ 
im,  was  to  luT  infoin- 
;aid,heHt't"mt'd  tonilo 
.■d  that  it  might  be  for 
as  ovpn-ssi'd  by  many 
vain  to  ovorcomo. 
or  tilt"  wedding.     Tl\i! 
and  seamstresses  were 
i  and  linens,  laces  and 
le  elect  kept   anxious 
1   in  to  admire  some 
kith  upon  some  import- 

for  Leonore  objected 
1  when  she  had  more 
but  now  the  piano  was 
bus  after  school-hours 
L'h  she  spent  with  her 
ed  nothing  so  muci  as 
'ith  her  own  thoiighr.'^. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

TIIK    OLD   AIMIOU    AT   (iUASSMKUE. 

TiiKtimo  j.asHed<|uieklyand  busily,  and  the  day  sot  for 
Mr.  Kaymond's  arrival  was  nt  hand.'    Aldeane  owne.l  to 
herself  no  slight  curiosity  to  see  him  once  more,  and  to 
learn   Iro.n  his  appearance   wh<lhcr  she   had    the   saino 
cause  for  heart  depression  tiiat  she  had  noticed  in  him 
three   years    before.     In    the   .lay  of  ]m  coming,  there 
seemed  every  omen  of  jroo.1,  and  Ald..ane  called  herself 
weak  enough  to  be  encourage.l  by  it,  to  entertain  mon. 
hopeful  teehngs  concerning  the  future  of  her  juipil  than 
had  before  been  hers.     The  sky  was  cloudless,  and  rested 
a  canopy  of  azure  brightness  over  the  .^reen  earth.     The' 
soft  and  hree/y  air  was  redolent  with  the  perfumes  of  the 
flowers  of  May.     Aldeane  ret^-ived  this  as  an  omen  of 
good.    Nature,  at  least,  seemed  propitious.    She  would  not 
Jiave  had  the  day  dark  and  dreary  on  whi.h  he  was  to 
appear,  who  was  to  take  the  sunshine  from  their  Southern 
bower,  to  smde  upon  the  snows  of  the  North      Yet  a 
fbreboding  of  evil,  faint  yet  lasting  saddened  her  heart 
J.oonore,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  devoid  of  all  ajiprehen- 
sion.     After  completinnr  her  afternoon  toilet,  she  entered 
Aldeane's   room,   exclaiming:    "Look,  Miss   Allie!  will 
<  ieorgo  be  asliamed  of  me,  think  you  ■-" 

She  wore  a  light   blue  dress,  of  some  delicate  fabric 
It  was  cut  low  on  the  white  shoulders,  which  were  half 
covered  by  a  profusion  of  brown  ringlets,  which  fell  back 
from  her  joyous  face,  revealing  tlie^low  white  forehead 
tlie  gentle  brown  eyes,  the  rounded  cheeks,  flushed  with 


174 


ALDEANE. 


evcitemont,  and  the  full  pouting  lips,  which  wore  partocT 
by  a  smile,  disclosin!:;  the  tiny  white  teeth  behiiKl  them. 
Ahleane  took  a  spray  of  tea-roses  from  a  vase,  and  twin- 
in<4  it  amid  her  curls,  said : — 

"Unless  Mr.  Raymond  has  very  bad  taste,  which  1 
don't  believe,  he  can  not  fail  to  love  you  better  than  ever, 

Nora." 

"  Only  half  an  hour  more !"  returned  Leonore,  and  he 
will  be  "here.  I  told  Uncle  Adam  to  drive  fast;  besides, 
papa  will  hurry  him." 

She  took  a  scat  at  the  window,  whence  she  otten 
glanced  up  the  road.  At  last  she  exclaimed  fretfully : 
"  Oh  !  will  they  ever  come?  This  half  hour  is  longer  than 
the  whole  week  has  been  !     How  slow  they  are !" 

"  Have  patience,  Leonore," 

« Oh  !  here  they  come !  here  they  come !"  she  ex- 
claimed a  moment  later,  leaning  out  of  the  window. 
"  They  are  away  up  the  road."  She  arose  and  ran  to  the 
door,  her  face  beaming  with  joyful  anticipation.  "  No,  I 
won't  go  down  till  they  call  me,"  she  said,  retreating 
slowly  to  the  window.  "  Yes !  I  will  though  ;  you  know 
he  will  think  me  cruel !"  and  yielding  to  her  inclinations, 
she  ran  down-stairs,  just  as  the  carriage  stopped  betore 

* '' Aldeane  turned  to  the  window.  Colonel  Arendell 
ali<-hted  from  the  carriage,  and  Mr.  Raymond  sprang 
..nfckly  after  him.  She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment 
with  curiosity.  The  features,  the  olive  complexion,  the 
dark  eyes,  the  majestic  form  she  had  known,  wi-re  all 
there,  but  the  fierce,  stern  expression  was  gone.  His  face 
was  li<'hted  up  by  a  look  of  impatient  love  and  joy,  such 
as  sheliad  supposed  him  incapable  of  wearing.  Leonore 
ran  down  the  path  to  meet  hun.  As  if  she  was  a  child 
he  lifted  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her,  his  dark  tace 
restiiKr  iipon  her  fair  cheeks,  while  he  whispered  words 
that  caused  them  to  mantle  with  blushes  and  smiles. 


Tl 
long 
liim, 
Leor 
on  hi 
last  I 
answ 

«] 
knov 
well 
insisi 

have 

nate- 

wher 

Al 

of  CO 

quesi 

come 
Sh 
"la 
mess 
lor  d 
Ml 
the  g 
eyes 
]iood 
upon 
die  8 
wind 
tlie  \\ 
ing  u 
Not 
was  i 
and  i 


ALDEANE. 


17^ 


v\\\c\\  wore  partoil 

•eth  l)ebiii<l  thein. 

a  vase,  and  twiu- 

)acl  taste,  which  I 
u  better  than  ever, 

I  Leonorc,  "  and  he 
rive  fast;  besides, 

whence  she  often 
iclaimed  fretfully: 
hour  is  longer  than 
they  are !" 

y  come !"  she  ex- 
t  of  the  window, 
rose  and  ran  to  the 
ticipation.  "  No,  I 
ihe  said,  retreatinsf 
though ;  you  know 
to  her  iuclinations, 
age  stopped  before 

Colonel  Arendell 
.  Raymond  sprang 
liim  for  a  moment 
ve  complexion,  the 
d  known,  were  all 
was  gone.  His  face 
t  love  and  joy,  such 
■  wearing.     Lconore 

if  she  was  a  child 
I  her,  his  dark  face 
he  whispered  words 
shcs  and  smiles. 


They  came  up  to  the  porch,  M'herc  Aldcano  could  ut) 
longer  see  tlieni,  but  she  heard  Mrs.  Arendell  welcome 
him,  and  his  reply,  delivered  in  a  rich,  musical  voice. 
Lconore  asked  many  qui'stions.  "IIow  long  he  had  been 
on  his  jouriu'v  ;  whether  Annie  was  well,  and  when  he  had 
last  seen  I'ncle  Fred  V"  Aldcine  listened  intently  for  his 
answer. 

"I  saw  him  in  Xew  York  as  I  came  througli.  You 
know  AFrs.  Alorgan  is  never  very  strong,  but  she  was  as 
well  as  usual.  Fred's  health  was  quite  poor,  tliough  ho 
insisted  upon  it  that  he  never  was  better  in  Ills  life." 

"Ah!  dear!"  said  :\rrs.  Arendell  "I  think  he  must 
have  caught  cold  on  his  return  North;  but  he  is  so  obsti- 
nate— altogether  refusing  and  disdaining  medical  advice, 
when  any  oiu'  can  see  that  he  needs  it  badly." 

Aldeane  heard  them  enter  the  parlor,  and  the  dull  hum 
of  conversation,  and  at  last  in  Leonore's  loudest  tones,  the 
qiiestion : 

"  Wiiere  is  Aldeane  ?  Zettie,  ask  Miss  Guthrie  to 
come  here." 

She  left  her  room,  and  met  the  girl  upon  the  stairs. 
"  I  am  going  down,  Zettie,"  she  said,  as  she  began  her 
message;  and  passing  on,  in  a  moment  stood  at  the  par- 
lor door. 

Mr.  Raymond  sat  near  a  large  window,  opening  upon 
the  garden,  Avhich  sloped  gently  down  to  the  river.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  it,  as  if  it  Avere  a  haunt  of  his  child- 
hood, or  the  realization  of  a  dream.  Jessie  was  sitting 
upon  his  kiu'e,  looking  furtively  up  at  liis  face,  while  Ed- 
die stood  bashfully  a  little  behind  him,  and  P>auk  at  the 
window,  eagerly  describing  the  tine  sport  to  be  found  in 
the  woods,  a  little  farther  up  the  river.  Leojiore  was  lean- 
ing upon  the  )iaiiO,  her  face  beaming  with  animated  smiles. 
Not  wishing  to  break  in  uj)ou  this  hap])y  sceiu>,  Aldeane 
was  about  softly  to  retreat,  wlicu  Lconore  obsi-rved  her, 
and  springing  forward,  caught  her  hand,  and  le  1  her  into 


I 


176 


ALDEANE. 


the  room,  savin<?,  "This  is  Miss  Aldeano,  th-.it  you  have 
lieanl  mo  speak  of  so  often,  Mr.  Raymoiul" 

lie  lifted  his  eyes  to  her  face  with  an  abstrpcted  look, 
so  like  that  he  had  worn  of  old,  that  it  j.ained  her  inex- 
])ressil)ly,  though  it  instantly  fled  as  he  recosinized  her. 

To  her  at  least  it  was  quite  a  joyous  nieetinj;.  He  told 
licr  a  thousand  things  of  Arthur  and  Belle,  whieh  she  was 
delighted  to  hear,  but  even  when  he  was  most  vivacious, 
that  pained  look  would  return  to  his  foce,  as  if  his  great- 
est art  in  that  time  and  place,  could  not  keep  it  at  bay. 

He  seemed  charmed  with  the  beauty  and  artlessness  of 
little  Jessie,  and  soon  her  timidity  departing,  she  sat 
more  at  ease  upon  his  knee,  and  laughed  and  chatted 
gayly,  leaning  her  bright,  curly  head  against  him,  and 
toying  deligiitedly  with  a  magnificent  diamond  ring 
which  was  \ipon  his  finger.  Aldeane  was  struck  with 
the  similarity  of  the  beauty  of  the  little  child's  face,  to 
that  of  the  man  looking  down  upon  her.  He  was  darker, 
his  features  were  more  clearly  defined,  but  the  expres- 
sion of  the  two  taces  was  the  same.  She  looked  at  them 
for  some  time,  then  turning  to  Leonore  she  said  in  a  low 
voice :  "  Don't  you  thuik  Jessie  ro"embles  Mr.  llaymond." 
"I  was  just  thinking  of  the  same  thing,  but  thought 
that  it  must  be  a  delusion.     Strange,  is  it  not  ?" 

Jessie  at  that  moment  slipped  from  Mr.  Raymond's 
arms  and  ran  from  the  room.  Rising,  he  said,  "  Play  for 
me,  Leonore,  something  lively." 

She  sat  down  to  the  piano  saying :  "  Don't  scold,  but 
indeed  I  have  not  practiced  any  since  I  came  home." 
"  Ah  !  that  is  too  bad.  And  why  haven't  you ':"' 
"  I  have  been  so  busy,"  she  replied,  a  brighter  tinge  of 
color  rising  to  her  cheeks  as  she  commenced  a  lively  waltz. 
He  smiled^'proudlv,  and  turning  to  a  side-table  on  which 
were  some  miniatures,  took  up  one  and  opened  it,  but 
started  as  his  eye  fell  upon  the  portrait.  He,  however, 
continued  to  gaze  at  it,  and  Aldeane  saw  the  expression 


I 


Stan 
pusf 

H 
tiiat 
smil 
iiide 
cats 

J. 
incr 
telli 
moil 
evei 
but 
ever 
mod 
fron 
8om 
Aid- 
fasci 
she 

Li 
dow 
the  , 
His 
she 


L 


ALD  EANE. 


177 


mc,  tliiit  yon  have 
loiul." 

Ill  abstrpcted  look, 
it  i)iviiK'il  lu'v  inox- 
e  roeounizod  Ikt. 
3  nu'c'tinjjc.    IIo  told 
ielU',  wlik'U  she  waa 
v-as  most  vivacious, 
■ace,  as  if  his  great- 
ot  kot'p  it  at  bay. 
y  and  artlossncss  of 
departiiijjj,  she  sat 
utrhed  and  chatted 
1  a<i;ainst  him,  and 
:;ent    tliamond   ring 
le  Avas  struck  with 
ttle  child's  face,  to 
LT.     He  was  darker, 
ed,  but  the  expres- 
She  looked  at  them 
ire  she  said  in  a  low 
bles  Mr.  Raymond." 
thing,  but  thought 
is  it  not?" 
m\  Mr.  Raymond's 
I,  he  said,  "  Play  for 

;  "  Don't  scold,  but 
e  I  came  home." 
haven't  you  ?" 
,  a  brighter  tinge  of 
lenced  a  lively  waltz. 
,  side-table  on  which 
and  opened  it,  but 
rait.  He,  however, 
}  saw  the  expression 


of  his  likeness  steal  over  his  face  and  flash  from  his 
eyes. 

Je  -sie  came  in  witli  a  kitten  in  her  arms,  to  which  she 
culled  liis  attention.  Aldeane  looked  at  the  two  faces 
again ;  tiie  resemblance  was  gone,  not  a  trace  of  it  re- 
mained. "  'Twas  all  fancy  !"  she  thought.  *'  They  are 
not  at  all  alike."  I\Ir.  Raymond  bent  down,  aiul  taking 
the  kitten  from  Jessie,  commenced  in  an  absent  manner 
to  stroke  its  fur  against  the  grain,  while  tlie  little  animal 
scratched  and  struggled  to  get  iree. 

"  Oil,  Mr.  Raymond !  Mr.  Raymond !"  cried  Jessie, 
standing  on  tip-toe,  and  clasping  his  arm,  "  give  me  my 
pussy,  you're  a-hurting  her  !" 

He  looked  at  the  cat,  as  if  for  the  first  time  conscious 
tiiat  it  was  in  his  arms,  then  giving  her  to  Jessie,  with  a 
smile,  which  he  strove  to  make  pleasant,  but  which  was 
indeed  acrid,  said:  "That  is  the  way  we  stroke  Canadian 
cats,  .lessie,  but  yours  don't  seem  to  like  it." 

Jessie!  looked  at  him  with  an  exjircssion  of  indignant 
incredulity,  and  walked  slowly  from  the  room,  distinctly 
telling  Frank,  who  stood  in  the  doorway,  that  "  3Ir.  Ray- 
mond was  right  mean  !  a  lieap  meaner  than  any  one  she 
ever  saw  before."  He  laughed  at  this  candid  opinion, 
but  the  gloomy  expression  did  not  wholly  pass  away, 
even  when  Leonore  spoke  to  him.  Although  greatly 
modified,  the  fierce  look  still  gleamed  like  smothered  fire 
from  his  \yes,  and  rested  on  his  lips.  That  there  was 
some  mystery,  some  hidden  reason  for  its  '^ppearance, 
Aldeane  was  confident.  This  strange  man  intei-sted  and 
fascinated  her ;  but  it  was  the  fascination  of  dread,  for 
she  truly  and  deeply  feared  him. 

Later  in  the  evenhig,  while  standing  at  the  parlor  Avin- 
dow,  she  saw  him  and  Leonore  walking  in  the  garden,  by 
the  river-side.  She  looked  almost  diminutive  beside  liim. 
His  arm  was  thrown  lightly  over  her  shoulders,  while 
she  looked  into  the  dark,  handsome  face  bending  over 
8* 


178 


AIDE  AN  E. 


licr,  with  a  trusting,  loving  gaze.  They  were  in  anl- 
inatetl  ooiiversation,  and  at  this  happy  moment  all  traces 
t)f  the  mysterious  mood  that  had  stamped  his  features 
with  tlie  glare  of  passioD,  was  gone.  Aldeane  admired 
him,  yet  trembled  for  the  fair  young  creature  at  his  side. 
(  Aunt  lioxy  was  standing  at  the  other  window.  "Yes, 
he's  de  bery  libin'  image !"  she  said,  in  a  low,  decided 
tone,  "  de  bery  libin'  image  !" 

"  Of  whom  ?"  inquired  Aldeane,  in  surprise. 

"  Dat  ain't  any  business  to  any  body  on  dis  plantation, 
not  meauin'  any  ottense  to  you.  marm.  But  I  jes'  knoAV 
Samiry  must  see  him !  dat's  all.'^  And  wi«^h  a  signiucant 
shake  of  the  head,  Aunt  Ko*y  turned  from  the  room, 
leaving  Aldeane  in  a  state  of  great  perplexity. 

During  the  evening:  she  could  not  join  heartily  in  tlie 
merry  conversatioi  a.'id  laughter  in  which  the  others  en- 
gaged ;  for  her  thoui.'  hts  were  busy,  vainly  endeavoi'ing  to 
find  some  clew  to  the  mystery  that  seemingly  enshrouded 
]Mr.  Raymond.  Once,  while  standing  near  the  door,  she 
heard  voices  oii  the  portico.  Aunt  Koxy  said,  firmly : 
(  "  You  kill  believe  it  or  not,  Massa  John,  but  if  he 
(ton't  look,  a  heap  like  him,  h  ay  I  be  whipped  for  a  lazy 
nigger !"  ^ 

"  Don't  be  so  foolish,  Roxy !  There's  not  a  particle  of 
resemblance  !  Don't  let  me  hear  another  word  about  it, 
and  remember,  on  your  peril,  speak  of  this  to  any  other 
person.  Now,  begone,  and  let  me  hear  no  moi-e  of  this 
nonsense !" 

Aldeane  had  never  heard  f)olonel  Arendell  speak  so 
sternly  to  Roxy  before,  and  vras  positive  that  some  strong 
emotion  had  actuated  him  to  do  so  now.  She  turned,  as 
if  to  seek  an  explanation  from  Mr.  Raymond.  He  was 
standing  near  her,  and  had  evidently  heard  all  that  had 
p.'vssed,  and  thought  it  referred  to  him.  His  face  was 
pale,  and  his  eyes  shone  with  a  basilisk  light,  like  those  of 
a  vengeful,  cowering  tiger.     His  gaze  fell  upon  her,  and 


app 

sul)_ 

satii 

the 

of  g 

whii 

iiert 

that 

whii 

ing 

her 

his 

Stan 

dull 

whe 
jVre 
you 

hert 

a 

you 

]ilae 

31 

do  J 

a 

It  is 

me ! 

<( 

(( 

clan 
chil( 

be  a 

T 

we  ' 


rhey  were  in  anl- 
moment  all  traces 
mpcd  his  features 
Aldeanc  admired 
rcature  at  his  side, 
n'  window.  "Yes, 
iu  a  low,  decided 

urprisc. 

on  dis  plantation, 
.  But  I  jes'  know 
I  with  a  signiiicant 
d  from  the  room, 
•plexity. 

jin  heartily  in  the 
lioh  the  others  en- 
idy  endeavoring  to 
ningly  enshrouded 
near  the  door,  she 
)xy  said,  firmly : 
ia  John,  but  if  he 
ivhipped  for  a  lazy 

's  not  a  particle  of 
her  word  about  it, 
[■  this  to  any  other 
ar  no  more  of  this 

Arendell  speak  so 
e  that  some  strong 
w.  She  turned,  as 
Raymond.  He  was 
leard  all  that  had 
im.  His  face  was 
light,  like  those  of 
fell  upon  her,  and 


A  LD  i:AX  E. 


170 


he  approaclu'd  her,  his  oountoiiiint'e  assuming  its  wonted 
a|)])earanoo.  lie  addressed  lier  u])on  some  indifterent 
subjocv,  and  a  ^i^w  moim  iits  j)assed  in  desultory  conver- 
sation. His  remarks  were  brilliant  and  pointed,  and,  to 
thi'  quick  iKrccjitions  of  his  companion,  revealed  a  mhid 
of  giant  strcngtii,  and  an  unconquerable  will  and  energy, 
Aviiicli  sometimes  broke  through  his  cabu  exterior,  in  the 
lierce  glances  she  had  so  often  seen,  and  in  caustic  Avords 
that  involuntarily  mingled  with  the  choice  language  in 
which  he  sj)oke.  He  was  to  her  a  perfect  enigm.\  chain- 
ing her  attention,  commaiuling  her  admiration,  yet  filling 
her  with  a  vague  feeling  of  terror;  iMt  so  much  when  in 
his  presence,  as  when  she  thought  of  him,  as  she  con- 
stantly did,  in  the  solitude  of  her  chamber,  or  through  the 
dull  hours  of  her  stui^y  in  the  school-room. 

Mr.  Raymond  had  been  at  Arendell  House  two  days, 
when,  at  the  breakfast  table,  he  rem.arked,  "  Colonel 
Arendell,  you  have  another  estate — Grassmere,  I  believe 
you  call  it.  I  should  like  to  see  it.  Is  it  far  from 
here  ?" 

"  Some  ten  miles  only,"  returiunl  the  colonel,  "  and  if 
you  like  wx'  will  go  there  to-morrow.  It  is  a  beautiful 
place  iu  the  spring  of  the  year."  • 

^Ir.  llaymoihl  looked  at  him  searchingly.  "Then  why- 
do  you  not  live  there?"  he  inquired. 

"  Ah  !"  he  muttered,  "  I  don't  like  it !  I  don't  like  it  1 
It  is  too  full  of  bitter  recollections  ever  to  be  pleasant  to 
me  !    But  I  want  to  go  there.    Will  you  go  to-morrow?" 

"  Certainly,  with  pleasure,"  replied  Mr.  Raymond. 

"  You  need  not  think  that  you  are  going  alone,"  ex- 
claimed Lconore ;  "we  will  make  a  p:i  iy,  and  all  go, 
children  and  all !" 

"  Yes,  children  and  all !"  repeated  Frank.  "  'Twould 
be  a  pity  to  leave  Ed.  and  Jessie  by  themselves." 

They  all  laughed.  "  Yes,  young  man,  often  summers, 
we  will  all  go,"  said  Mrs.  Arendell,  "  provided  that  you 


180 


ALLEANE. 


Avill  iitteml  to  your  books  to-day,  and  give  Miss  Guthrie 
no  cause  for  ooniplivint." 

Thosi'  tornis  wore  joyously  acceded  to,  ana  they  ran 
away  to  the  school-room,  where  Eddie  soon  got  into  dis- 
trraco  by  ui.setting  an  ink-bottle,  and  Jessie  cried  dolo- 
rously over  her  dress,  which  was  bespattered  with  tho 

sable  lluid. 

Notwithstanding  this,  they  all  assembled  the  next  morn- 
in<r  to  go  to  Grassmere,  and  never  perhaps  had  a  happier 
jia'ty  passed  through  the  beautiful  pine-woods  that  lay 
between  the  two  plantations.  Leonore,  Aldeane,  and  Mr. 
Raymond  were  on  horseback,  and  therefore,  perhaps,  as 
they  were  separated  from  the  merry  children,  any  sadness 
or  preoccupation  in  either  of  them  was  instantly  seen ; 
and  in  :Mr.  Raymond  at  times  there  was  noticed  a  degree 
of  preoccupation  which  to  Aldeane  was  unaccountable. 

On  his  arrival  at  Grassmere,  he  did  not  immediately 
dismount,  but  remained  at  the  gate,  surveying  the  place 
with  an  intense  gaze  of  admiration  and  delight,  mingled 
with  some  deeper  feeling  not  so  easily  read.  But  soon 
the  dark  cloud,  that  so  often  rested  upon  his  features, 
stole  over  them,  deepening  as  he  apparently  became  lost 
in  profound  reverie.  He  was  aroused  by  Colonel  Aren- 
dell's  inquiry,  "  WTiat  do  you  think  of  the  place,  Ray- 
mond ?"  . 

He  started,  as  if  from  a  dream,  answering  contuseclly, 
"It  is  beautiful,  charming.  You  see  I  forgot  every 
thing  else  in  contemplating  it.     Can   I  give  it  higher 

praise?"  .  ,  ,  i. 

At  that  moment,  Aunt  Samira,  who  had  been  busy 

with  ]Mrs.  Arendell,  looked  at  him. 

"  The  Lord  have  mercy !"  she  exclaimed,  raising  her 
i.and8  as  if  to  ward  oflF  an  apparition,  her  face  turning  a 
sickly  terror-stricken  hue,  "  the  Lord  have  meroy  !'> 

Mr.  Raymond  looked  at  her  with  a  peculiar  expression 
of  surprise  and  alarm. 


w 


ner' 

(( 

Mr. 

Yes 
l)ro1 
this 
so  p 
Istl 

hast 

and 

H 

Mr. 

the 

aroii 

the  I 
(( 

rcco 


give  Miss  Guthrie 

1  to,  and  they  ran 

I  soon  got  into  dis- 

Jossie  cried  dolo- 

■ipattcred  with  the 

bled  the  next  morn- 
haps  had  a  happier 
ine-woods  tliat  lay 
e,  Aldeane,  and  Mr, 
lereforc,  perhaps,  as 
lildren,  any  sadness 
ft-as  instantly  seen ; 
ras  noticed  a  degree 
as  unaccountable, 
id  not  immediately 
surveying  the  place 
nd  delight,  mingled 
ily  read.     But  soon 
I  upon  his  features, 
arently  became  lost 
d  by  Colonel  Aren- 
;  of  the  place,  Ray- 

swering  confusedly, 
see  I  forgot  every 
m   I  give  it  higher 

ivho  had  been  busy 

^claimed,  raising  her 
II,  her  face  turning  a 
L  have  meroy  !'^ 
a  peculiar  expression 


ALDEANi:. 


m 


"What  is  the  matter  with  the  woman?"  he  asked 
testily,  as  he  dismounted  and  passed  lier. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  the  colonel.  "  She  is  subject 
to  such  fits,  I  believe.  Come  into  the  house,  and  don't 
mind  her."    } 

Mr.  Kaymond  obeyed.  Aunt  Samira  gazed  after  him 
eagerly,  then  uttering  a  low  cry  of  distress,  rushed  into 
the  kitclien,  muttering,  "  I  know  'tain't  him !  I  see  'tain't 
him  !  but  he's  mighty  like !  mighty  like  !" 

riiis  littU^  inciilent  seemed  to  throw  a  slight  shadow 
ov.T  all,  especially  Aldeane,  who  wearied  herself  with 
vain  conjectures  concerning  their  strange  guest,  and  the 
mystery  by  which,  at  least  to  her,  he  was  surrounded. 
They  soon  separated  into  eanples,  for  a  walk  through  the 
grounds.  As  they  approached  the  trumpet-vine  arbor, 
Mr.  Raymond  sto])ped  before  it,  exclaiming  : — 
"  This  is  the  ])lace  !" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  inquired  Colonel  Arendell, 
nervously. 

"  I  have  dreamed  of  this  place  many  times,"  replied 
Mr.  Raymond,  "  yet  it  scarcely  seemed  so  dilapidated. 
Yes,"  he  continued,  pointing  to  the  decaying  logs  that 
l>rotruded  from  the  dense  mass  of  foliage,  "I  have  seen 
this  often  in  my  visions.  It  is  a  place  to  be  remembered, 
so  peculiar  is  its  wild  beauty.  Why  do  you  preserve  it  ? 
Is  there  a  story  connected  with  it  ?" 

"  Yes ;  a  sad  one !"  returned  the  colonel,  turning  aside 
hastily.  "  Come  away  ;  the  vines  around  it  are  poisonous, 
and  doubly  so  to  me.     I  can  not  breathe  their  odors  !" 

He  seemed  much  excited.  But  unheeding  his  words, 
Mr.  Raymond  entered  the  bower,  seating  himself  upon 
the  moldering  bench  within,  and  looking  sorrowfully 
around  him.  At  last  he  arose  and  joined  the  group  at 
the  entrance,  saying,  with  a  mournful  smile : — 

"Now  we  will  gol  This  is  a  place  to  awaken  sad 
recollections." 


182 


ALDEANE. 


T 


«It  seen^H  fraught  with  tenors  to -n^e  poopW' J^;;; 
TeonoR.  "but  I  love  itH  .leeayuig  heauty ;  w  uk  pa  m 
!i;;;r;^he..oo,niest  place  on  the. ^ 

"  It  U  "  sai.l  the  c(>l<Miel,  aeeKledly,  >  tt  s.i  uy. 
i„,„  tllj  ,:ra..,>s  «..  oau  m.,l  -ornchi,,,  tlH.,0  morn  .o 

the  taste  ofuU."  .       ,  t      • 

»  Lots  of  strawberries !"  lisped  Jessie 

They  laughed,  and  entered  the  gardens,  where  tlu  y 
fn,n  Frufk  and  Eddie  trampling  down  the  vines  m 
iSe^is  to  gather  a  handtiil  of  ripe  fruit  lor  their 

n^other  before  the  fT^ ^^^  >v  the  announce- 

Thev  w'erc  called  from  tne  g,iruLiin     y 
„,eSdi,mc,.     AfUT  partaking  of  it,  O-^-^^^™^ 
.liowrf  Mr.  HavraonJ   ovor  tl.c   lio.,,..      M  .«mc 

nues^on    about  them  as  he  did  so.     Aunt  Sanura  was 
Tt  e  rooin;  she  evidently  had  not  fully  recovered  her 
;:a:imity;nd  often  glanced  iurti^.ly  at  Mr^Kayi^^ 
1  he  scanned  the  closely-written  book.        Junius,     ik 
!aid  at  length.    "  Ah !"  your  child  T  looking  up  at  Aunt 

""'"^Yes,  sir,"  she  replied,  her  eyes  overflowing  with  tears. 
"  Yes,  sir,  he  was  my  chile  !" 

"  Ah  !  the  only  one  ?"  he  pursued. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Dpfid   Isuiwose!  .  , 

"?;rLord\lnly  knows,  sir!"  she  cried  Pjteously,  as 
she  ran  fiom  the  room,  her  apron  pressed  close  to  hti 

^' Mr  Raymond  did  not  seem  to  heel  her  emotions,  but 
turned  o/er  the  pages  of  the  book.     Frank  was  leaning 


I 


I 

v 

[ 


on  ' 
E(l< 

AIh 

a  1(1 

rem 
ago, 
slioi 

IJay 

see  : 

(( 

no  re 
gent 
^[ 
shell 
the 
niira 
amoi 

Ai 
folio 
tliat 
She  ■ 
leani 
mind 
neeef 
that, 

W 
of  hi 
mine 
start; 

"3 
betra 

"1 
etly. 


ALDEANE, 


183 


nic  ppoplc,"  "^nifl 
tity;  whilo  paiia 
)lo  plantution.'" 
t  stully.     "  <^'<>"i<' 
i<r  there  morn  to 


Lk-ns,  where  they 
)wn  the  vines,  in 
ripe  fruit  for  their 

>V  the  announce- 
,  Colonel  Arendell 
use.      ITe   seemed 
iujT  lonijet^t  in  the 
ally  in  the  library, 
r  looking  over  sev- 
Ivcs,  he  took  down 
tation.    Turning  to 
iding  them,  asking 
Aunt  Saniira  was 
fully  recovered  her 
ly  at  Mr.  Raymond, 
[)ok.     "Junius,"  he 

looking  up  at  Aunt 

jrflowiug  with  tears. 


e  cried  piteously,  as 
pressed  close  to  her 

«e  1  her  emotions,  but 
Frank  was  leaning 


i 


on  the  back  of  the  cliair,  looking  over  his  slioulder.  "See 
Kd.lu" !"  h(.  cried,  suddenly.  "  It  tells  here  when  our 
Abel  was  born." 

"  What  has  become  of  him  ?"  asked  Mr.  Ravmond  in 
a  low  voice.  '  ' 

"Poison  8i)ider  bit  him,"  repli.'d  Frank,  sadly,  at  the 
remembrance  of  his  favorite.  "  He  died  about  a  year 
ago.  IIo  is  buried  in  tlie  graveyard,  near  Lorino-.  I'll 
show  you  the  place,  if  you  like."  " 

"Ahl  so  some  wept  for  him,  poor  fellow,"  said  Mr 
Raynu^nd,  with  a  sigh.  "  V,.s,  l^auk,  I  should  like  to 
see  It.     A\  e  will  go  there  soiiie  day." 

"  Dear  George  is  so  tender-hearted,"  whispered  Leo- 
nore  to  Aldeane.  "One  can  scarcely  comprehend  such 
gentleness  under  such  a  stern  exterior." 

Mr.  liaymond  shut  the  book,  and  replaced  it  upon  the 
shelt,  and,  as  Mrs.  Arendell  and  Leonore  were  called  from 
the  room  to  some  weighty  consultation  with  Aunt  Sa- 
mira,  he  strolled  into  the  garden,  and  soon  disappeared 
among  the  thick  slirubbery. 

An  irresistible  impulse  came  upon  Aldeane  to  rise  and 
follow  him,  for  she  was  convinced  that  lie  had  been  in 
that  p!ace  before,  and  under  far  different  circumstances. 
Mie  was  not  conscious  of  any  trivial  and  mean  desire  to 
learn  his  secret  for  the  mere  idle  gratification  of  her  own 
mind,  but  for  the  nobler  reason  that  Leonore  must,  of 
necessity,  be  closely  concerned  therein ;  and  because  of 
that,  she  quickly  resolved  to  seek  and  question  him. 

Without  reasoning  in  any  degree  upon  the  probability 
of  his  bemg  there,  she  turned  her  footsteps  toward  the 
ruined  arbor,  and  when  he  heard  her  footsteps  he  was 
startled. 

"  My  God  !"  he  broke  out  passionately.    "  Have  I  then 
betrayed  myself?"  '  '  ' 

"To  no  one,  I  think,  but  me,"  answered  Aldeane,  qui- 
etly.    "  But  I  was  attracted  by  your  gloomy  abstraction, 


18-i 


ALDEAKE. 


U.„R  .«o,  to  Hpeculate  upon  your  past,  and  of  that  I  am 
JJo.  J  not  HO  ignorant  an  you  --  '    "^ -^^l 
„„i„..,  :uul  that  this  ,,la.<'  is  oonnootcl  with  it.  /y---  ^  > 
mon<r'  she  .nntinuocl,  rur.u'stly,  "  1  have  no  w.sh  to  ,..y 
"your  atlair^  or  to  U.an.  any  Bc.cn.  tl..  may  1.0  .n 

your  l-c-pin.u,  hut  I  .nUvat   you  to  thu.k  ^^•hethol  that 

wcri't  is  a  harmU'Ss  one." 

"To  whomV"  he  aHkcl,  raining  his  keen  eyes  to  hers, 
aiul  art  siuUlonly  dropi-ing  them. 

"  To  Leonon- ,"  blie  ausweri-d,  readily. 
H    aLe  and' paced  the  arbor  hurriedly.     "Upon  my 
soul  I  think  it  harndeHs  to  lu-r.     She  wdl  never  know- 
tied  at  length.     "  Good  Ciod  !  Mdea.ie    il  y<m  knew 
'"leJL"     lie  l.roke  off  suddenly,  and  looked  at  her 
Vould  she  ever  forget  the  expression  upon  his  taee  that 
day?     A  whole  childhood  of  misery  leai.t  into  his  he  , 
and  a  long  youth  of  brooding  revenge.     Aldeane  Guth- 
He  saw  it'and  shrank  Irom  it,  and  scarce  knowing  what 
.he  did,  implored  him  to  "  pause  ere  it  was  too  late . 

He  sU.pped  before  her,  suddenly.  "  AUleane,"  he  said 
"  no  harm  can  come  to  Leonore,  no  harm  to  any  one  1 
think,"  and  then  he  laughed  softly  to  himself,  while  she 
id  entreatingly  at  him.  "But  I  have  "ot  treasured 
my  revenge  for  years  to  forego  it  now.  It  wdl  not  tall  on 
Leonore;  she  is  dearer  than  my  life  to  me 

"  Wiiom  then  ?      Upon  whom   will   it   fall  r      asked 
Aldeane,  not  in  curiosity,  but  in  terrible  fear. 

lie  paused  a  moment,  and  looked  around  him.      Listen. 
Aldeane,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  upon  your  enemy  as 

^tZ^if  her  lips  formed  the  words,  "Kichard 

^*^lle  nodded,  and  resumed  his  pacing  of  the  ai-bor.  The 
drooping  tendrils  of  the  vine  waved  around  him  as  lie 
walked :  and  as  their  fiery  blossoms  touched  hrm,  Aldeane 
Tould  not  divest  herself  of  the  idea  that  they  were  ser- 


pen  I 
lier. 


ftnd  of  that  I  am 
vdultl  liiivo  UH  ini- 
^ithil.  Mr.Kiiy- 
ve  no  wish  to  pry 
ct  tliivt  may  1^'  ''i 
link  whetlior  thiit 

Lcen  eyes  to  hers, 

J- 

oiUy.  "  Upon  my 
kill  novor  know — " 
e'lmc,  if  you  knew 

and  looked  at  her. 
1  upon  his  face  that 
leai)t  into  his  face, 
;c.  Aldeane  Gnth- 
[vrce  knowing  Avhat 
t  was  too  late !" 
'  Aldeane,"  he  said, 

harm  to  any  one,  I 
)  himself,  while  she 

have  not  treasured 
'.  It  will  not  fall  on 
,0  me." 

rill   it  fallV"   asked 
ible  fear. 

round  him.   "Listen, 
upon  your  enemy  as 

le  words,  "Richard 

ig  of  the  arbor.  The 
d  around  him  as  he 
touched  him,  Aldeane 
\  that  they  were  ser- 


i 


AIDE  AN  1^. 


185 


pcntH  ooilini,'  around  him.  So  Htrong  was  the  fancy  upon 
iuT,  that  sill'  lu'ggcd  him  to  1h>  scati'd. 

"Aldoanv,"  he  said,  suddenly,  not  heeding  for  a  mo- 
ment her  reipiest,  "  yeai-w  ago,  when  I  saw  you,  I  thought 
I  would  tell  you  my  history.  I  suspected  t  inn  that  there 
were  irasons  why  you  should  know  it,  and  I  suspect  them 
more  than  ever  now.  In  a  few  days  I  will  give  you  n 
package,  to  he  opened  after  my  nuirriage — not  till  atler 
my  mariiage."  IIo  gave  her  no  opportunity  to  accept 
or  refuse  this  trust,  not  even  to  utter  an  exclamation  of 
surprise,  \wi  instantly  left  her,  a  prey  to  the  most  intense 
surprise,  and  the  most  poignant  fears. 

An  iiour  passed,  she  knew  not  how,  aiul  then  she  was 
laughingly  drawn  from  her  retreat  liy  Leonore  and  her 
lover,  botii  of  whom  declared  they  hail  been  search- 
ing for  her  everywhere,  for  they  were  to  take  tea, 
and  go  home  immediately.  As  Aldeane  followed  them 
to  the  house,  she  wondered  vaguely  whether  all  that 
jiass.d  was  not  a  dream,  for  from  the  time  he  left  her  in 
the  arbor,  until  they  reached  Arendell  House,  not  a 
shadow  crossed  Raymond's  face,  not  a  look  of  signifi- 
cance beamed  from  his  eyes;  he  was  as  careless  and  gay 
as  if  no  trouble  ever  had  crossed  his  path,  as  if  no  gleam 
of  vengeance  lived  in  his  soul,  as  if  indeed  he  had  not 
even  the  most  trivial  wrong  to  avenge. 

But  Aldeane  was  not  the  less  fearful  of  liim  for  that ; 
she  felt  as  if  she  must  warn  some  one  of  him ;  yet  of 
what?  or,  to  whom  could  she  speak?  And  with  these 
distraciing  thoughts  she  one  evening  found  a  sealed 
packet  upon  her  table,  and  laid  it  safely  away,  shudder- 
ing as  she  thought  it  contained  a  secret,  which  her  honor 
forbade  her  to  possess  herself  of,  until,  if  it  threatened  evil 
to  her  darling,  it  would  be  too  late  to  avert  it.  Yet  she 
put  it  away,  feeling  lierself  powerless,  and  striving  to 
hope,  yet  trembling  ever  with  undefined  alarms,  she 
awaited  the  marriage  day. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


^ 


THR   VOICB   IN  TIIK   STOTIM. 

TiiK  dayl»ctoiv  that  i^ppointia  for  the  W('<l.Vm.rt  waa 
Blngularlv  oulm  ami  lu...ilirul,  and  as  f ho  even...-  .In-w 
noar,  hocanu-  i-xc-CMlin-My  doso  an.l  opi-rcHsivo,  so  that 
,„u.  sai.l  to  tlu>  other,  t.iat  there  was  thun.ler  ui  tho  u.r, 
ami  pointed  ahnost  with  a  Hcnse  of  relief  to  the  low 
hai.ui..-  elou.ls,  oxpresHiuji  hoiK>8  tliat  they  woi.1.1  open, 
and  refresh  the  earth. 

How  very  still  it  grew  as  the  evening  passed  on,  an.l 
overv  soun.l  fell  upon  the  air  with  startling  distinctness. 
Colonel  Areudell,  I.eonore,  and  Aldeanc',  were  upon  the 
porch,  enjoying,  with  a  certain  admixture  of  awe-whieh 
is  common  enough  to   all  before   this  spectacle  ot   the 
elonents  kei.t  at  bay,  the  quiet  and  serenity  which  pre- 
vailed, ami  noticing  with  amusement   the   antics  ot   a 
croup  of  little  negroes  who  were  disporting  themselves 
in  the  upper  terrace  of  the  garden,  and  most  of  whom 
were  clustered   around   llercules-a   particularly  small 
one-who  was  attempting  to  climb  a  tree  which  stood  m 
the  center  of  the  grass-plat.. 

After  watching  them  for  some  time,  and  when  the 
little  darky  had  climbed  like  a  squirrel  into  the  topmost 
boughs  of  the  tree,  the  colonel  demanded  8U  Idenly, 
"Wh.at  are  you  doing  there?" 

The  bov  dropped  from  the  tree,  as  much  like  a  dead 
^.quirrel,  a's  he  had  ascended  like  a  live  one,  and  explained 
apolo.reticallv,  "  It's  dom-  been  dry  weder,  mass  r,  a  long 


II. 


OHM. 

)r  the  wctininc;  wnfl 
IS  tlic  c'Vi'iiinii;  dnw 
opjin'ssivc',  KO  tliiit 
,  thiiiuk'r  in  the  air, 
if  rclii'f  to  till-  low 
It  Ihey  would  open, 

ning  passed  on,  and 
artling  distinctness. 
i«ivne,  were  ujion  the 
{tare  of  awe — whieh 
his  speetat'le  of  the 
serenity  whieh  pri"- 
ent   the   anties  of  a 
isjiorting  tliemselves 
,  and  most  of  whom 
a   i)artieularly  small 
.a  tree  whieh  stood  in 

time,  and  when  the 
rrel  into  the  to])most 
demanded   su  Idenly, 

as  much  like  a  dead 

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weder,  mass'r,  a  long 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historlques 


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ALDEANE. 


187 


time,  an'  dcy  say  flat  de  snake'U  raako  it  rain.  I'm  'gwino 
to  try  it  any  way." 

"  There  will  V)e  no  need  of  the  snake's  aid,  I  think  !" 
said  Colonel  Arondell,  lautfliinj^.  "  We  shall  surely  have 
a  storm  to  nij^ht;  this  perfect  calm  is  a  true  index  of  the 
tempest  about  to  follow.  Look  at  those  clouds  moving 
so  rai)idly ;  besides  the  wind  is  rising  !" 

"  Oh,  i)a !"  exclaimed  Leonore  in  a  frightened  voice. 
"  Oh,  jta,  do  you  think  George  will  reach  home  before 
the  st(n-m  comes  on?" 

"lie  may.  But  let  me  see,  the  roads  are  long  and 
rough.  I  do  not  think  he  can.  But  you  need  not  1>e 
frightened,  he  will  most  likely  stay  at  Golding's  to-night, 
and  come  early  in  the  morninj^  to  claim  his  bride.  I,  for 
one,  shall  not  expect  him  to-night." 

Leonore  looked  gloomily  at  the  clouds,  which  were  fast 
rising  thicker  and  blacker.  Distant  thunder  too  was  soon 
heard  muttering  in  defiant  tones,  and  as  the  night 
gathered  in,  the  whole  sky  became  overcast.  The  stats 
withdrew  thcmscives,  and  the  gloom  at  intervals  was 
dispelled  by  quick  flashes  of  lightning,  and  then  became 
more  intense  than  before.  They  entered  the  house,  but 
Leonore  walked  to  the  window,  and  tremblingly  con- 
templated the  scene  without. 

It  soon  became  indeed  terrific.  The  winds  rushed 
angrily  by,  shaking  tl-.o  tall  trees  to  their  very  roots,  and 
lashing  the  river  to  a  sheet  of  foam,  which  gleamed  white 
and  angrily  through  the  surrounding  darkness.  Lari;e 
drops  of  rain  began  to  fall,  and  the  lightning  flashes  each 
moment  lighted  up  the  arch  of  sable  that  overhung  the 
eaith.  Att'righted  she  tliought  of  Itaymond  riding  alone 
in  the  thick  woods,  through  the  darkness  and  rising 
tempest. 

Colonel  and  Mrs.  Arendell  felt  no  fears  for  his  safety. 
They  were  confident  that  he  had  found  a  lodging  for  the 
night.     But  Leonore  covered  her  face  with  her  hands, 


188 


ALDEANE. 


and  crouching  down  by  the  window,  wept  like  a  fn.Ejht- 
enod  clul<l,  and  trembled  violently  at  every  vivid  flash 
of  li<;htninj?,  or  loud  peal  of  thunder.  The  rain  fell  in 
torreiits ;  and  althous^di  all  had  retired  in  alarm  from  the 
windows,  they  could  plainly  hear  the  river  rising  rapidly, 
and  ever  and  anon  a  loud  crash  proclaimed  the  fall  of 
some  mighty  denizen  of  the  forest. 

The  negroes  in  affright  had  gathered  in  the  hall  and 
around  the  door.  Aunt  Samira  was  there,  moving 
noiselessly  about  in  her  usual  fasliion. 

"  Be  still,  dere's  nothin'  to  be  'fraid  on !"  she  exclaimed 
to  a  little  fellow  who  was  crying  lustily.  "  Dis  house'U 
be  safe  enough  I  reckon,  as  long  as  any  of  us  want  to 
stay  here." 

"  Aunt  Saniiry,"  said  his  mother,  intci-fering  in  his  be- 
half, "  I  guess  you  think  'kase  you're  'gwine  off  to  Can- 
ady,  that  you  can  crow  ober  de  rest  ob  us.  I  hope  you'll 
freeze  cl'ar  through ;  we  hain't  got  no  use  for  ye  here. 
But  may  be  ye'll  not  get  to  go  after  all." 

"  Hush !"  commanded  Colonel  Arendell,  authoritatively. 
"  Be  silent,  or  go  to  the  kitchen." 

Leonore  moaningly  repeated  the  words,  "  Perhaps  we'll 
not  get  to  go  after  all !"  covering  her  face  with  her  hands, 
and  rocking  foiward  and  back  m  strange,  unconquerable 

terror. 

A  momentary  cessation  of  the  storm  was  followed  by 
a  terribly  vivid  flash  of  lightning,  and  a  startling  peal  of 
thunder.  A  man's  footstep  was  heard  at  that  moment 
quickly  and  heavily  crossing  tlu;  piazza. 

"It  is  George!"  cried  Leonore,  rushing  to  the  door, 
which  had  been  quickly  thrown  open,  and  casting  herself 
into  the  arms  of  the  newcomer. 

"It  is  Blake,  Leonore!"  said  her  father,  taking  her 
away.  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  Richard,  what  brings  you 
here  to-night  ?" 

The  man  still  stood  at  the  door — which  some  one  had 


'"J 


ALDEANE. 


180 


i-cpt  like  a  friglil- 
t'vory  viviil  tlash 
The  rain  fell  in 
Lu  alarm  from  the 
i'or  rising  rapidly, 
aimed  the  fall  of 

■d  in  the  hall  and 
8    there,  moving 

n !"  she  exclaimed 
ly.  "  Dis  house'll 
iny  of  us  want  to 

xi-fering  in  his  be- 

'gwine  off  to  Can- 

)  us.    I  hope  you'll 

>  use  for  ye  here. 

1." 

ill,  authoritatively. 

•da, "  Perhaps  we'll 
ace  with  her  hands, 
ige,  unconquerable 

n  was  followed  by 
a  startling  peal  of 
d  at  that  moment 
a. 

jhhig  to  the  door, 
md  casting  herself 

father,  taking  her 
I,  what  brhigs  you 

rhich  some  one  had 


closed— witii  Jiis  hand  iipon  the  knob,  as  if  ready  for 
flight.  His  face  was  ashy  pale ;  his  large  black  eyes  wen- 
staring  wild  with  fright;  his  hair  and  clothes  were  drip- 
ping with  water;  and  his  whole  appearance  indicated  the 
extreme  of  mental  excitement. 

"  Good  God,  Richard  !  what  brought  you  here  to- 
niglit?"  rej)eated  the  colonel. 

"The  river  has  swejit  away  tlie  bridge,  Colonel  Aren- 
dell !"  he  replied,  in  terrified  accents.  '"It  has  not  done 
so  in  twenty  years  before.    Do  you  not  remember  'twas  on 

the  very  night  that  Lucinda  and  I  returned  from  li , 

where  we  had  been  to  advertise  Junius?  Colonel  Aren- 
dell,  I  heard  his  voice  in  the  storm  to-night,  crying, 
'  Help,  mother,  help  me !'  in  just  the  same  tones  as  lie  did 
that  morning  I  whipped  him  so.  Oh,  my  God !  my  God  ! 
I  am  certain  that  it  was  liis  voice.  It  came  to  me  in  a 
lull  of  the  tempest,  as  if  from  a  great  distance." 

"  It  was  his  spirit ;  de  boy  is  dead  !"  cried  Aunt  Samira, 
throwing  herself  upon  the  floor,  Avith  tears  and  lamenta- 
tions.    "  De  boy  is  dead  !" 

Mr.  Blake  turned  whiter  than  before,  while  Aldeane, 
terrified  beyond  measure,  inquired : — 

"  From  wliat  direction  did  the  voice  come,  Mr.  Blake  ? 
Quick !  tell  me." 

"  It  was  from  this.  I  came  flown  to  see  if  any  of  you 
had  heard  it.  1  heard  it,  shrill  and  clear,  though  it  appar- 
ently came  from  a  great  distance.  It  was  twice  repeated ; 
the  last  time  very  faintly.  Doubtless  I  should  not  have 
heard  it  had  not  m;-  senses  been  rendered  acute  by  the 
first  thrilling  cry." 

"  'Twas  his  spirit  in  de  storm !"  again  shrieked  Aunt 
Samira,  rocking  wildly  to  and  fro. 

Leonore  had  ceased  to  we.  ;> ;  and,  lifting  up  her  pale 
face,  gazed  wonderingly  upon  the  strange  scene  before 
her.  Aldeane,  with  a  dark  foreboding  almost  amounting 
to  certainty,  threw  her  arms  around  her,  and  drew  her  to 


190 


ALDEANE. 


her  bosom,  as  if  to  shield  her  from  some  imptii(Hng 
calamity. 

Coloiu'l  AiTiidell  bad  turned  deadly  pale  at  Mr,  Blake's 
announcement,  and  Htood  as  if  petrified  Avith  astonish- 
ment and  terror.     At  last  he  said,  slowly: — 

"You  were  thinking  of  the  occurrence  of  Avhich  you 
spoke.  This  storm  recalled  it.  Your  mind  was  excited. 
You  thought  you  heard  those  Avords." 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  heard  them.  My  mind  was  wholly 
engaged  in  trying  to  quiet  my  little  sister,  who  was  much 
frightened.  "SVheu  I  heard  that  voice,  I  recognized  it  im- 
mediately.    I  heard  it  twice,  distinctly." 

"Whose  voice  did  you  say  it  was?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Arendell,  alarmed  at  the  blanched  faces  of  the  colonel 
and  Mr.  Blake,  and  the  violent  crying  of  Samira. 

"  He  fancies  it  was  that  of  Saraira's  son,  Junius,  who 
ran  away  from  me  nearly  twenty  years  ago,"  explained 
Colonel  Arendell,  Then  turning  to  IVIr.  Blake,  he  said, 
somewhat  hef-itatingly,  "You  had  been  drinking  too 
freely,  perhaps,  sir  ?" 

"  No,  no !"  replied  Mr.  Blake,  shaking  his  head,  and  look- 
ing earnestly  from  one  to  the  other  of  the  startled  group. 

The  negroes,  with  terrified  looks,  had  gathered  around 
Aunt  Samira,  muttering,  "  It  was  his  ghost !  Dc  boy  is 
dead !"  and  sundry  other  exclamations  of  terror. 

Mr.  Blake  opened  the  door  to  go.  A  torrent  of  wind 
and  rain  swept  in ;  a  bright  flash  of  lightning  for  a  mo- 
ment dispelled  the  darkness,  and  in  another  it  was  more 
impenetrable  than  before ;  then  the  door  blew  to  with  a 
force  that  shook  the  room. 

"  You  will  not  venture  out  again  to-night,"  said  Mrs, 
Arendell,  "  stay  with  us.  The  trees  are  falling  on  every 
side.     You  would  be  killed  before  you  could  reach  home." 

Mr,  Blake  seated  himself,  gazing  vacantly  around  the 
room  as  if  bewildered.  "  Where  is  Mr.  Raymond  ?"  he 
inquired  at  last. 


iioll 

.Mrs 

u 

it  is 
woo 
she! 

JJ 


"  Til 
Ray 
to  r 
not  £ 
i'rom 
in  sp 
speal 

'tis  J 

shou 

Co 

Blak 

"I 

"  Bnl 

fectlj 

"I 

me," 

out ; 

ings ; 

and  f 

"1 

leave 

"I 

"Do 

befon 


ALDEANE. 


191 


in  some  impending 

y  pale  at  Mr.  Blake's 
iticd  Avith  astonish- 
)wly: — 

ronce  of  Avhich  you 
r  mind  was  excited. 

[y  mind  was  wholly 

lister,  wlio  was  much 

',  I  reco<jfnized  it  im- 

ly." 

as?"  inquired  Mrs. 

faces  of  the  colonel 

^  of  Samira. 

a's  son,  Junius,  who 

ars  ago,"  explained 

Sir.  Blake,  he  said, 

been   drinking  too 

ig  his  head,  and  look- 
f  the  startled  group, 
lad  gathered  around 
s  ghost !  De  boy  is 
18  of  terror. 
A  torrent  of  wind 
'  lightning  for  a  mo- 
inother  it  was  more 
loor  blew  to  with  a 

to-night,"  said  Mrs. 
are  fallinar  on  everv 
\  could  reach  home." 
f  acantly  around  the 
Mr.  Raymond  ?"  he 


"lie  M-eiit  to  Iv.  two  (lays  ago.  lie  was  expected 
home  today;  Imt  the  storm 'has  detained  him,"  replied 
aMts.  ^\.rendell. 

"Oh,  Mr.  IJIakc!"  exclaimed  Leonore;  "do  you  think 
it  is  possil)le  that  (icorge  would  venture  through  tlio 
woods  in  such  a  storm  ?     Don't  you  think  he  wouTd  find 
biielter  somewhere  ¥" 
"  Try  to  comfort  her,"  said  :Mrs.  Arcndell,  in  a  low  voice. 
But  he  seemed  in  no  mood  to  do  so,  for  he  said  slowly  :— 
"  I  do  not  know." 
^^  "  You  are  crazy  !"  said  Colonel  Arendell,  impatiently, 
"That  voice  has  taken  aAvay  your  senses.     Of  course, 
Raymond  wouldn't  be  so  wild  and  reckless  as  to  attempt 
to  reach  here  such  a  night  as  this.     That  cry,  if  it  was 
not  a  deception  of  your  imagination,  nuist  have  emanated 
from  some  child  caught  in  the  i-  jrm.    We  do  not  believe 
in  spirits,  besides  Samira's  child  is  a  man  now,  and  would 
speak  like  one." 

"  'Twas  his  ghost !"  murmured  Aunt  Roxy  ;  "  I  'spect 
'tis  at  Grassmere  now.  Miss  Alice  comes  dere,  why 
shouldn't  he?" 

Colonel  Arendell   seemed   greatly   excited;  and   Mr. 
Blake  grew  paler,  and  more  rigidly  silent  each  moment. 
"  I  can  not  account  for  it,"  he  said  at  length,  huskily. 
"  But  I  am  posHive  that  I  heard  that  child's  voice,  per- 
fectly enunciating  the  words  I  have  repeated." 

"  Leonore,  this  is  exciting  you  !  Come  ujvstairs  Avith 
me,"  whispered  Aldeane.  Without  a  word  the  two  jjassed 
out;  the  one  calm,  though  filled  Avith  terrible  forebod- 
ings ;  the  other  trembling  Avith  excitement,  bewildennent, 
and  fear. 

"  You  must  sleep  with  me  to-night !  I  shall  die  if  you 
leave  me  alone  !"  said  Leonore,  clinging  to  Aldeane. 

"  I  will  not  leave  you,  dearest,"  was  the  quiet  answer. 
"  Do  not  tremble  so,  the  storm  rages  less  furiously  than 
before." 


193 


ALDEANE. 


She  walked  to  the  window,  and  looked  out      7^  11  was 
,,r.p,.od  in  impcnotrablc  darknosn.     She  ee  dd  Hee  noth- 
inj^jlut  Khc  heard  the  wind  howl  l^i^'l-  =v»d  ■.V.Mkm-    he.i 
dit  almost  a«-ay,  only  to  begin  a,.un  with  redonhled  fury 
The   ruin  was  tailing  in  torrents,  the  <lro,.s  were  eon  - 
i,i„.led,  forming  a  sheet  of  water.     A  lightn.ng  Hash 
n.vcvaled   the   river,  rolling  furiously  on   at  a  few  leet 
below  the  hoMse.     It    Tas   bearing  on  its  b<.som,  trees 
and  earth,  an<l  besides  these  debris  of  the  la.ul  and  torests, 
others  more  terrible  to  look  upon;   planks  .nd  beams, 
telling  of  homes  destroyed  by  the  ruthless  powers  ot   he 
later  and  air.    It  was  indeed  a  terrific  scene.    The  br.dge 
was  swept  away,  and  a  large  pine-tree,  which  lor  years 
had  stood  near   it,  had  fallen  across  the  stream,  and 
Blightly  turned  it  from  its  course.     As  Aldeane  stood 
there,  she  was   reminded  of  the   magmheent   lines   ot 
Goethe,  and  unconsciously  repeated  them. 

"  The  night  with  mist  is  thick  and  black ; 
Hark,  liow  the  forests  roar  and  crack  1 
Tlio  hootinR  owls  affrighted  fly. 
Shivered  fall  the  columns  tall 
Of  the  palaces  of  pine — 
See  the  uniting  boughs  entwine, 
The  mighty  trunks  that  bond  and  groan, 
The  hard  roots  grating  on  the  stone  I 
Mingling  confusedly  and  madly,  all 
Over  each  otlier  are  heaped  in  the  fall, 
And  .vroimd  the  crags,  so  wet  and  foul, 
The  winds  in  fury  hiss  and  howl  1" 

Then  she  thought  of  Iteymond.  Could  it  be  possible 
that  it  was  his  voice  Blake  had  heard  in  the  storm;  and 
if  80,  could  it  be-but  no,  she  would  not  think  it  Htr 
horrible  suspicion  could  not  be  true,  and  she  again  looked 
forth  into  the  s^orm,  praying  that  he  was  as  sale  trom  harm 
as  they,  wildly  telling  herself,  that  Leonore  8  oyer  mus 
be  upright  and  pure,  yet  thinking,  thmkmg,  thinking  m 


sp 
an 
at 
m( 

on 
th( 
th( 
pn 
art 

T 

fro 

wit 

stri 

anr 

her 

fell 

sno 

bro 

viol 

Wr 

rult 

I 

pan 

the 

witl 

(( 

in  t 

him, 
(( 

upoi 

L 

Intel 

vioh 
« 

him, 


■=* 


A  LDEAN-E. 


108 


looked  out.     ^11  was 

She  (•<>  ild  MW  notli- 

j^hcr  ami  '.ii^hcr,  thou 

n  with  rodoubli'd  fury. 

the  drops  woro  coiu- 
[•r.  A  lightuinfj  flash 
isly  on  at  a  few  feet 
ifj  on  its  bosom,  tn-os 
of  the  land  and  forests, 
i;   iilanks  :.nd  beams, 

ruthless  powiTS  of  the 
ritic  scene.  The  bridge 
e-tree,  whieh  for  years 
.cross  the  stream,  and 
le.  As  Aldeane  stood 
I  magnificent  lines  of 
3d  them. 

:  and  black ; 
and  crack  I 

fly- 
Ill 

irino, 

id  and  groan, 

,he  stone  1 

idly,  all 

I  in  the  fall, 

ret  and  foul, 

howU" 

d.  Could  it  be  possible 
leard  in  the  storm ;  and 
)uld  not  think  it.  Her 
ue,  and  she  again  looked 
he  was  aa  safe  from  harm 
at  Leonore's  lover  must 
iig,  thinking,  thinking  in 


I 


spite  of  herself,  of  what  Kaymond  had  said  of  IJlako, 
and  of  the  terror  he  liad  shown,  what  terror  and  remorso 
at  the  fancied  sound  of  a  voice  he  had  heard  as  a  boy'a 
more  than  twenty  years  before. 

She  formed  no  plans  then— she  could  not ;  she  thought 
only  of  Raymond's  safety,  and  dimly  also  that  she,  upon 
the  next  morning  would  urge  Colonel  Arendell  to  loarn 
the  history  of  his  proposed  son-in-law,  ere  he  yielded  his 
precious  daughter  to  his  arms— that  daughter  so  pu.e,so 
artless  and  lovely. 

Thinking  thus,  Ald"f\ne  turned  to  look  at  her,— turned 
from  the  scene  of  destruction  without,  to  behold  one 
within,  whose  spiritual  caan  and  loveliness  presented  a 
strange  contrast,  and  at  once  calmed  her  perturbed  mind 
and  surcharged  heart.  Half  disrobed,  Leonore  had  cast 
herself  down  {.t  the  side  of  '.he  bed ;  her  long  da'-k  curls 
fell  like  a  curtain  around  her;  her  face  was  b"iried  in  the 
snowy  counterpane;  her  hands  were  clasped  above  her 
brow;  and  her  whole  form  was  trembling  with  the 
violence  of  her  emotion.  She  was  praying  earnestly. 
Wrestling  in  her  feebleness  with  the  mighty  God  that 
rules  the  tempest,  arousing  and  quieting  it  at  will. 

Long  she  prayed.  Occasionally  in  her  earnestness 
partial  sentences  would  fall  aloud  from  her  lips.  Still 
the  storm  continued;  when  she  arose  from  her  knees 
with  a  tranquil  expression  upon  her  beautiful  face. 

"  Aldeane,''  she  said,  "  I  know  that  George  has  been 
in  this  storm.  I  have  been  praying  to  God  to  preserve 
him.     Perhaps  I  have  not  been  too  late." 

"  God  grant  that  you  have  not,"  she  replied,  gazing 
upon  her  very  sorrowfully. 

Leenore  seemed  coir  nrted,  and  when  a  few  minutes 
later,  b^ie  reclined  in  A!  leane's  arms,  she  trembled  less 
violently,  although  her  heart  beat  quiok  and  strong. 

"AldeaniV'  she  whispered,  "to-morrow  I  shall  see 
him,  and  lie  "-iH  laugh  at  my  fears.     You  know,  A'lie, 


VX{ 


A  LVl'A  xi:. 


If  tl.-  vnicv  tlKit  Mr.  r.lak..  l.rara  hi.-l  Ik-m  a,.  ..,m  n 
of  evil  to  l.i.n  an.l  mo,  I  slw.ul.l  lunv  iwanl  .t,  »..'H.a.>, 
1,0  suM   it  was  ii  iK.y's  vnico,  an.l  (n'or-r  s  is  ho  strung 

and  nianlv."'  .      .     ,        i      i    ... i 

»It  inuvl.c  tl.ut  Mr.  niuko  inia-ui.'.l  that  lu>  Ium  .1 
tho  v.-l.T/LonMorc..  Ih-  s,.ukc.  as  if  \w  l.a.l  tr.at.a  tlu. 
Imv  l.u.lly  at  s..nu'  time.  IVrLapH  his  n.nscu.ncf,  urcusc-l 
l.y  this  terrible  sf.rni,  spc.k.  in  tun.s  ul.nost  h.unan  to 
liis  cowardly  soul." 

"IVrhai.s  so,  hut  th-  talc  to  uic  was  hornldc.  Oh, 
howarcadfullvhcOo..kcd!"  and  Lcouorc  shuddcrc.l. 

"Vcs"  rci.ii.'d  Aidcaiu',  sickcuin-  with  the  thou-h  s 
that  arose  within  her.  "Oh,  that  tlu'  mornin-  would 
come  !"  was  her  soul's  mute  cry. 

The  ch.cksl..wlv  struck  twelve.  "T  think  tlu-  storm 
is  ah.'itinc"  said  Aldeane,  shortly  afterwanl. 

llcr  supposition  was  correct.  The  win.l  howled  less 
v-il.llv,  and  the  mutteriu-  thunder  seenuMl  at  a  tjreat 
.listamv;  the  lishtnini:  too  was  less  vivid  and  so.,u 
<H.ased  altogether  to  appear.  The  ram  stdl  iell  heavily, 
and  the  rushinj:  of  the  river  was  plainly  heard. 

"The  "torm  is  iiuleed  passinjj:,"  murmured  Leonore, 
wearily.     "  Now  I  may  rc^st  a  little.     Surely  (leorge  was 

not  in  it." 

"  Yes  •  sleep,  darlins,  if  you  can,"  returned  Aldeane,  as 
cheerfully  as  she  cul.l  speak.  "  Vou  Avill  have  enough 
to  pasH  through  to-morrow,  you  know." 

"Yes,  if  the  company  will  he  able  to  come,  said 
I.eonore,  with  a  faint  smile  and  hlush. 

"  God  '^rant  that  the  bridegroom  may  come,"  thought 
Aldeane.'""  I?ut  she  answered  not,  but  lay  listening  t<) 
the  whnl  as  it  fled  awav  to  its  home  in  the  t-averns  ot 
the  earth,  mitil  all  was  still,  save  the  pattering  ot  the 
rain-drops,  whieh  now  came  slowly,  the  rushing  of  the 
river,  and  at  last  the  quiet  breathings  that  told  that 
l^eonorc  slept. 


.  li.'iinl  it,  Kfsiili ■^'i 
i'()ri;i''s  is  ho  ^tnmg 

fiiicl  thiit  lit'  lu'iinl 
■  lit'  hiitl  triati'd  tlir 
s  fonsfii'iu'i',  urousftl 
I's  iilinost  Iminaii   tu 

!■  WHS  liDnilflc.     <'li( 
)nort'  HlnnMiTctl. 
r  with   the   tli'>U!_MitH 
till'  morning   woulil 

"I   tliink  tlu'  storm 
rtcrwiinl. 

In-  winil  liowU'il  U'HS 
!•  sffiiu'tl  lit,  a  ijroat 
k'ss  vivid,  and  «oiiu 
rain  wtill  ii'U  heavily, 
linly  heard. 
'  miiriniired  Lfonorc, 
.     Suri'ly  Cic'orge  was 

"  returned  Aldcano,  as 
fou  -will  have  enough 
ow." 

able  to  come,"  said 
ish. 

a  may  come,"  thought 
,  but  lay  listening  to 
ome  ill  the  caverns  of 

the  pattering  of  the 
ly,  the  rushing  of  the 
Lthiiigs  that  told  that 


CIIATTKll   XXIV. 

WHAT   TIIK    WICI.OINd    M()KNtN«i    nHOUGHT, 

TiiKo,-,;,,  tl„.  long  w<.ary  night  Aldeane  slept  n<.t,  hut 
c  as,„ng  Lc.,„.„v  i„  Ikt  arms,  listened  to  the  .,uietin.r  of 
»li''  tempest,  and  thought,  auxiouslv,  feaif.iliv,  of  Hav- 
moud,  longing  f,,,-  the  morning.     At  last  it  came  .de-u- 
■■""1  iH-autifui.     Putting  aside  the  white  aru.s  din-Mn-r  ho 
closely  around  her,  she  arose  and  approach.-.l  the  window 
A  scene  of  ruin  and  devastation  met  her  view.     Trees 
la.l  l,een  blown  up  by  the   roots;  in    many  places  the 
ences  were    all  swept  away,  an.l    the  corn    and  cotton 
laid  loNV.      riie  river  was  full  of  the    debris   of  brid-rvs 
atid  embankmeu's,  which  it  was   hurrviug  wildly  on  "or 
tossing  upon  its  miry  banks.  '  ' 

Qtiickly  dressing,  she  hurrie.l  down  to  the  piazza  at  the 
Iront  ol' the  house. 

Every  thing  there  was  in  a  similar  condition  The 
n-mdows  of  tlie  kitchens  and  some  of  the  negro  cabins 
liad  l>een  blown  out,  an.l  lay  shattered  u])on  the  ground  •' 
the  carefully-tended  garden,  with  its  beautiful  Howers  and 
trees,  appeared  a  waste  of  fallen  shrubs  and  man-lfd 
tredhsses.  Every  thing  seemed  ruined.  A  single  nT-dit 
had  despoiled  all  the  beauty  it  had  taken  years  to  brin.rto 
perfection.  *  " 

Colonel  Arendell  soon  joined  her.  He  looked  very 
I'.ile  and  haggard,  as  if  he  had  passed  a  sleepless  ni-ht 

'  1  ou  are  up  (-arly,  to  mourn  over  tliis  desolation  I 
see,    lie  said  with  a  si'di. 


106 


ALDKANE. 


"  Yt'H  ;"  hIio  answpriMl  iimsiiijjfly  ;  "  Imt  ovou  this  dt'so- 
lation  ot'tlu-  land  ix  nothing  to  that  oftlif  honrt." 

"What  ih.  you  nu'aii,  AhK-aiU'V"  lio  UMko.l,  tiirniiij^ 
Hinldtnly  Jowaid  hor, 

"Uavo  you  luriinl  cronkor  too?  I  thoujjht  my  own 
tho>i!,'litH  liad  tornionU'd  mc  enough,  fulHC  prophi-ts  that 

tlii'V  an." 

"I  meant,  nothincj  by  my  words,  nir!"  Mh'  ni.liod, 
nstoni^*hl■d  by  tho  vi'hcmonoe  of  his  wordw  and  inanncr. 
"  Vo\i  muHt  i)ardon  nu-,  if  1  aroused  unideasant  thoughlM 
or  reeolleetions." 

"  Aldcane,  my  ehihl,"  Ik-  auHworcd  oadly,  tenderly 
proHsing  her  hands  in  his  own,  "  I  have  terrible  thouglitH 
Bonietimes.  Tlie  bo;'  that  you  heard  Hlake  speak  of  last 
night,  Hworc  vengeance  upon  us  all,  for  wrongs  whieh 
I  could  not  avert.  God  knows  my  slavery  then  was 
worse  than  his  own.  Oh,  the  iron— the  adamantine 
shackles  that  I  wore,  and  yet  seemed  to  the  world  a  free 
man.  He  burst  his  bonds.  Death  alone  couhl  sever 
mine.  They  are  not  severed  now,  that  boy  is  one  link  of 
the  horrid  chain.  True,  I  have  never  heard  of  him  since 
he  letl  us.  I  have  sometimes  thought  he  was  dead,  but 
Blake  has  always  said  that  he  would  come  back,  and 
now  believes  that  he  is  near  us,  and  thus  accounts  for  the 
voice,  that  he  still  persists  he  heard  last  night,  and  which 
haunts  him  yet.  I  confess,  too,  that  it  has  alarmed  me 
considerably.  One's  nerves  are  easily  shaken  during 
Buch  a  stonn  as  we  had  last  night." 

«'lt  was  indeed  terrible!",  ejaculated  Aldeane,  walking 
to  the  end  of  the  porch,  and  shading  her  eyes  with  her 
hand.     "  Who  are  those  coming  up  from  the  river,  Colonel 

Arendell?"  ,  ,     ,    , 

He  went  to  her  side,  both  turned  pale,  and  looked, 

from  the  group  of  men  bearing  a  heavy  weight  between 

them,  to  each  other  apprehensively. 

"  It  is  a  dead  body— a  man,  I  believe,  Aideane  1"  whis- 


pen 
wh( 

T 
entt 
(low 

() 

atul 
t( 

j.ist 
hrou 
and 
Woi 

town 

loatli 

'J'li 

place 

house 

upon 

by  til 

asked 

"U 

"li 

I  hav 

unrec 

Till 

one   f 

beheh 

Gee 

"It 

Mrs, 

and  n 

of  the 

his  fac 

Tho 

ence  o 


T 


'  hut  ovou  this  dow)- 

oftlic  Ill-art." 

'   lie    askt'd,  tiirniiifi 

I  tlioujjlit  my  own 

I,  I'ttlse  propliftH  thill 

*,   nir!"   h1»'   n'liliod, 

(  wnrilw  ami  iiianiuT. 

unpleasant  thoughts 

orcd  padly,  tenderly 
avc  terrible  ihouj^'htH 
d  Hlake  upeak  of  lawt 

II,  fur  wrongs  whieh 
my  slavery  then  was 
ron — the  adamantine 
ed  to  the  world  a  free 
:h  alone  could  sever 
hat  boy  is  one  link  of 
rcr  heard  of  him  since 
ght  he  was  dead,  but 
r)uld  come  back,  and 
.  thus  accounts  for  the 

last  night,  and  which 
liat  it  has  alarmed  mo 
easily   shaken   during 

ited  Aldeanc,  walking 
ing  her  eyes  with  her 
from  the  river,  Colonel 

ncd  pale,  and  looked, 
heavy  weight  between 

ilieve,  Aideane !"  whis- 


ALDEANE. 


107 


pored  the  eoK„K.l,  his  lip«  white  with  ,lrea.l.     "  Mv  ( Jod  • 
who  can  it  Im- '•"'  ^     ""• 

The  „u.,.  were  now  at  tlu<  gat,,  and  ,mei.,sin,r  it 
<'"«<Te.l  sl.,wly  an.i  silvntiy.  r.,|,„.,l  Aren,l..|l  walked 
down  to  meet  them. 

aiuVsuid  !-^''"  '"''"'  "'"'•••'"«  <'"'"vard,  pulled  ..«•  his  hat, 

"A  gentleman,  sir,  was  fimnd  drowned  in   the  river 
last  above   lu-re,  and   as  this  was  the  n.-arest  place  we 
•.n...U'ht  hnn  here,     lie  is  dreadfully  beaten  and  bruis,.!, 
and  looks  as  .   ho  had  been  wash..!  from  a  gn-at  distance 
U  ould  you  like  to  hx.k  at  him,  sir'/" 

"  IWutly.     Who  is  it  y"  ,.,plie.l  the  colonel,  turning 
ow.ard  the  house,  with  a  strange  feeling  of  oppression  anil 
loathing,  dreading  to  look  toward  the  corpse 

The   men  again    raised   the   burden,   whi.-h  they  ha.l 
placed   "I'on   the   ground,   ami   slowly  approached   the 
J.ouse      Mr.  I^lake  and  Mrs.  Arendell  had  Joined  Ahh-ano 
«I>on  the  piazza;  they  were  all  evidently  much  agitate.l 
l.y  the  occurrence.     Mr.  IJlake  went  dowm  the  steps  an.l 
asked  in  a  husky  voice  :— 
"  Do  any  of  you  know  who  it  is  ?" 
"  lie  is  a  stranger  to  all  of  us,  sir,"  said  cue.     "  I  think 
1  have  seen  the  man,  but  lie  is  so  bruised  as  to  be  almost 
unrecognizable." 

The  men  placed  the  corpse  upon  the  steps.  And  at 
one  glance,  and  with  a  scream  of  ansruish,  Aldeano 
belield  the  fulfillment  of  her  most  horrible  fears. 
George  Raymond  lay  dead  before  lier 
"It  is  llaymond!  O  God,  it  is  Raymond!"  shrieked 
Mrs.  Arendell;  while  the  colonel,  with  every  feature 
and  motion  expressive  of  the  utmost  horror,  liflod  one 
of  the  arms  dripping  with  water,  then  let  it  tall,  covering 
his  face  with  his  hands,  and  groanino-  alou(" 

Though  greatly  shocked,  Mr.  IJJake  retained  his  pres- 
enceofmmd.  ^ 


198 


ALDEANE. 


"  Carry  the  1)0(ly  into  the  ]>arlor,"  he  said  to  ilic  men. 
"  ]Miss  Leonoro  must  not  sec  il." 

"  It  is  the  genticnian  to  wlioiu  she  as  to  have  bei'ii 
married  to-day,"  '\vhisj)c'ri'd  one. 

With  bhmeheil  faces  at  the  tliouj^ht  of  the  widowed 
maid.Mi  they  lifted  tlie  eorpse  in  their  arms,  carried  it 
into  the  parlor,  and  laid  it  njjon  the  sofa.  All  the 
negroes,  Avith  horror  stamped  upon  eaeh  countenance,  had 
l)y  this  time  gathered  around.  Slirieks  and  lamentations 
began  to  arise,  when,  with  her  long  curls  flowing  wildly 
hack  from  i\er  face,  Avhich  riviiled  her  snowy  wrapper  in 
whiteness,  Leonore  rushed  through  the  throng,  and  with 
a  wild  scream  of  despair,  threw  herself  upon  the  muti- 
lated body  (  f  llaymond. 

"  George,  my  darling,  my  husband!"  she  cried  frantic- 
ally, casting  back  the  black  hair,  wringing  with  moisture, 
from  li'.s  clammy  brow,  and  gazing  distractedly  uj)on  him. 
If  face  was  almost  purple;  his  long  beard,  mustache, 
auu  hair  Avere  matted  closely,  together ;  his  eyes  were 
closed,  and  his  jaw  fallen.  lie  liad  evidently  struggled 
violently  to  the  last,  and  had  apparently  been  dead  some 
time.  His  clothes  were  much  torn,  and  covered  with 
mud,  as  though  he  had  been  swept  from  a  grea  distance, 
and  tossed  violently  from  tlie  current  to  the  banks,  then 
back  again.  Leonore  saw  all  tliis  at  a  glance,  and  with 
another  shriek,  wilder  far  than  the  first,  threw  herself 
upon  the  body  of  her  lover  in  a  deathlike  swoon. 

Mr.  Blake  lifted  her  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her 
through  the  group  of  lamenting  negroes  inc.>  the  sitting- 
mom.  With  the  colonel  and  j\Irs.  Arendell,  Aldeani^ 
still  stood  beside  the  corpse,  wholly  speechless  with 
horror  and  grief.  Tlie  right  arm  of  the  corpse  fell  heavily 
down  from  its  side,  the  breast  of  his  coat  fell  back,  and 
from  ♦he  jjocket  dropped  a  little  book  which  fell  open 
upon  the  fioor. 

Colonel    Arendell  stooped,  and  picked  it  up.     It  had 


T 


"  he  said  to  ilio  men. 

ho     as  to  have  Ijoeii 

ui^ht  of  the  widowed 
their  arms,  carried  it 
1  tlie  sofa.  All  the 
"ach  countenance,  had 
ieks  and  lamentations 
;  curls  Howing  wildly 
ler  snowy  wrapper  in 
the  thronsf,  and  with 
■rself  uj)on   the   niuti- 

id !"  she  cried  frantic- 
inging  with  moisture, 
listractedly  u])on  him. 
ling  beard,  mustache, 
ether;  his  eyes  were 
I  evidently  struggled 
•ently  been  dead  some 
m,  and  covered  with 
from  a  grea  distance, 
•nt  to  the  banks,  then 
at  a  glance,  and  with 
lie  first,  threw  herself 
ithlike  swoon, 
•ms,  and  carried  her 
'groes  ini.i  the  sitting- 
re.  Arendell,  Aldeani^ 
loUy  speechless  witii 
'  the  corpse  fell  heavily 
lis  coat  fell  back,  and 
book  which  fell  open 

picked  it  up.     Tt  had 


A  L  I)  V:  A  X  E. 


109 


opened  at  the  last  entry  made  by  llie  dcccaiied.  TTe 
glanccil  over  it,  his  face  coMgealiiiu-  witli  horror  as  h'* 
coir.pivliendcd  tlic  incaninn-  cil'thc  seiiti'iu'cs.  It  was  but 
a  [Vw  siiorl  lines,  l).,t  in  frcnzicil  to'.U's  he  critvi : — 

"My  (iod,  it  is  .Iiinius!  Wliat !  Wed  my  cliild  ! 
(Jrcat  Heavin,  -an  tliis  be  trui' I" 

7dr.  iilakc,  pale  with  excilement,  sprang  toward  him, 
nn!  snatcliinv:  th(>  book  from  iiis  ner\(lcss  haml,  read  the 
)i:iragra|ili  in  a  loud  and  horritied  voi(\' ; — - 

"'Hie  reveng''  lliat,  my  soul  for  years  lias  craved  is  at 
iiand  !  Ah,  .lolm  Arendell!  Woe!  woe  I  to  thee!  for 
in  anotlier  day  your  slave  .Junius  shaii  wed  your 
dauL;-hter,  and  crush  vour  fon<lest  Iiopi's.  Tlie  end  is  at 
hand!" 

"It  is  luTc  I"  ei'ied  tlu'  ri'ader,  pointing  to  tlie  corpse. 
"Ilis  influence  and  power  have  ceased  forever!"  ho 
tliought,  exulting)  ••  "J  have  escajted  Ids  wrath.  L'etri- 
bution  wiil  never  reach  me!" 

Vv'ith  a  low  groan  Colonel  Arendell  had  sunk  upon  a 
cliair,  as  if  bereft  of  his  senses.  Ilis  wife  knelt  beside 
him,  striving  by  her  tears  and  entreaties  to  arouse  him 
from  the  stu]ior  which  seemed  to  have  overwhelmed  him. 
"Junius,  my  son  !  my  ])retty  boy  !''  cried  Aunt  Samira, 
casting  herself  down  by  the  body.  "It  Avas  your  voice 
calling  to  me  in  the  storm  last  night.  My  son  !  my  son  !" 
Through  all  the  horror  impressed  upon  him  by  the 
scene  around  him,  ^\r.  Blake  felt  a  sort  of  wild  joy  at  the 
death  of  his  enemy.  Approaching  the  corpse,  lie  smoothed 
back  tlie  dri]iping  hair,  ])Iaced  his  hands  over  the  whiskers 
and  mustache,  and  said,  in  a  low  voice:  "See,  the  like- 
ness is  perfect !" 

"  William  !"  cried  Colonel  Arendell,  sjiringing  toward 
the  eorjisi>.  but  falling  prostrate  before  it.     His  mind  iiad 
given  away  before  the  repeated   sliocks  given  to  it,  and 
for  some  time  lie  lay  wholly  unconscious, 
.    "  .Mass'r   William!   Junius!"  moaned  S;imira,  kissing 


200 


ALDEANE. 


tlie  cold  lips  of  her  son.  Some  of  the  negroes  borj  her, 
struggling  and  shrieking,  away  to  her  cabin,  and  for  a 
few  moments  Aldeane  was  left  alone  with  ail  that  re- 
mained of  the  unfortunate  octoroon. 

She  thought,  as  she  gazed  upon  him,  of  the  suspicicm 
that  had  thrust  themselves  upon  her  the  night  before,  and 
which  she  had  vainly  striven  to  drive  from  lier  mind. 
They  were  all  coniirmed;  she  needed  not  to  read  his 
letter  now  ;  the  worst  she  had  suspected  of  the  history 
of  George  Raymond  was  confirmed ;  and  his  history  was 
ended ;  death  had  ended  it  before  his  terrible  vengeance 
could  be  consummated. 

One  of  the  men,  who  had  discovered  the  body,  entered 
the  room,  but  started  back  when  lie  saw  a  lady  there. 

"  Stay  a  moment,"  said  Aldeane,  and  Avith  a  gesture 
of  respect,  the  man  took  a  step  farther  into  the  room. 
"Will  you  tell  me  how  you  found  him,  and  where?  poor 
fellow  !  poor  fellow.  Will  you  tell  me  all  about  it,"  she 
resumed,  seating  herseli  beside  Kaymond,  and  quietly  ad- 
justing his  dripping  hair. 

"  I  found  him  about  a  mile  up  the  river,  miss.  I  had 
gone  down  to  my  corn-fields  to  see  if  possible  how  much 
harm  the  freshet  had  done.  I  went  down  pretty  close  to 
the  river,  and,  floating  among  logs  and  brushwood,  I  dis- 
covered, to  my  horror,  the  body  of  a  man.  I  could  not 
get  him  out  without  assistance,  so  I  ran  to  a  neighbor's 
to  obtain  it.  Soon  a  number  of  men  were  assembled 
upon  the  banks,  and  the  gentleman  quickly  taken  from 
the  stream.  Then  arose  the  question,  where  he  should  be 
taken  to.  None  of  us  reco^ized  the  gentleman,  and 
felt  unwilling  to  take  him  to  our  poor  houses,  and  all  co- 
incided in  the  opinion  that  this  was  the  best  place  to 
bring  him.  A  portion  of  us  accordingly  come  with  the 
body  to  this  place,  while  the  rest  went  up  the  river  to 
discover  if  possible  the  place  of  his  death.  They  found  it 
at  Baring's  Branch,  near  the  bend,  where  it  empties  it- 


and 
neai 
a  sh 
Jiad 
drea 
its  li 
Sc 
and 
to  til 

lame 

two  I 

one. 

to  he 

the  ] 

theg 

Fri 

ants  1 

mond 

they  : 

sie  hi 

stopp 

"Is 

a  Slav 

He 

tonish 

with  t 

«Y( 


e  negroes  borj  her, 
er  cnbin,  and  for  a 
e  with  ail  that  ro- 
il, of  the  suspicions 
he  night  before,  and 
ive  from  her  mind, 
ed  not  to  read  his 
cted  of  the  liistory 
and  his  history  was 
i  terrible  vcngcanco 

d  the  body,  entered 
aw  a  lady  there, 
and  Avith  a  gesture 
her  into  the  room, 
n,  and  where?  poor 
ne  all  about  it,"  she 
lond,  and  quietly  ad- 
river,  miss.  I  had 
'  possible  how  much 
lown  pretty  close  to 
id  brushwood,  I  dis- 
man.  I  could  not 
ran  to  a  neighbor's 
len  were  assembled 
quickly  taken  from 
,  where  he  should  be 
bhe  gentleman,  and 
r  houses,  and  all  co- 
s  the  best  place  to 
ngly  come  with  the 
rent  up  the  river  to 
ath.  They  found  it 
vhere  it  empties  it- 


A  L  D  EA  NE, 


201 


self  nito  tlie  river.  From  the  spurs  upon  his  feet  we 
knew  that  he  had  been  riding,  and  unaware,  or  reckless 
ot  the  danger,  had  forded  the  brancli.  It  is  a  dreadful 
thing,  miss.  Even  if  ho  is  a  negro,  he  looks  like  a  gentle- 
man, and  Arondell  at  that." 

He  looked  at  the  dead  man,  then  wistfully  at  Aldeane 
a  moment.  Tlien,  as  lier  white  lips  murmured,  "Could 
you  discover  no  more?"  he  continued:— 

"  Tlie  party  from  Baring's  Hrauch  have  just  returned 
and  report  that  a  liorse,  supposed  to  be  his,  was  found 
near  tiie  ford  of  the  K-  road.     It  had  been  washed  down 
a  sliort  distance,  an<l  had  struck  upon  a  raft  of  trees  that 
had  almost  blockaded  the  stream.     The  poor  animal  was 
dreadfully  bruised  and  torn.     No  doubt  it  struggled  for 
Its  life  as  hard  as  its  master  did  for  his,  poor  gentleman  " 
Some  of  the  negroes  had  gathered  near  the  open  dooV 
and  checking  their  cries,  listened  mth  horror-struc^k  faces 
to  the  man's  words.     As  he  ceased,  they  renewed  iheir 
lamentations  louder  and  wilder  than  before ;  only  one  or 
two  setmed  able  to  restrain  themselves;  Aunt  Koxy  was 
one.     Taking  Aldeane  by  the  arm,  she  led  lier  up-stairs 
to  her  own  room,  and  gently  closing  the  door,  returned  to 
the  parlor,  to  the  sad  duty  of  preparing  the  corpse  for 
the  grave. 

Frank,  Eddie,  and  Jessie,  had  been  kept  by  the  serv- 
ants away  from  the  parlor,  so  they  had  not  yet  seen  Ilay- 
mond.  When  they  knew  that  Aldeane  was  in  her  room, 
they  rushed  tumultuously  in.  Hurrying  toward  her,  Jes- 
sie hid  her  face  in  her  lap,  and  sobbed  bitteriy;  Frank 
stopped  before  her,  crying  : — 

"Is  it  true,  JMiss  Aldeane,  that  Mr.  liaymond  was  once 
a  slave?     Say,  is  it  true  ?" 

He  was  much  excited ;  his  eyes  were  dilated  Avith  as- 
tonishment and  eagerness,  and  his  whole  frame  quivered 
with  excitement. 

"Yes,  Frank,"   returned   Aldeane,   very   sorrowfully. 


20: 


A  L  D  EA  NE. 


"  Ho  was  oTico  unjustly  licUl  as  a  slave,  yet  he  was  yonr 
own  uncle's  ciiiM." 

"What!  my  eonsin  a  slave?"  he  queried,  turnincj 
slightly  pale.  '"  A  slave !  akin  to  me  ?"  Then,  with  an  ex- 
I.iessio'n  of  ineffable  dissjust,  he  said,  "I  am  glad  he  is 
dead,"  in  a  bitter  alto<rether  nn-ehildlike  voiec-"  a  slave, 

and  marry  my  slater  /" 

He  turned  to  leave  the  room,  but  before  he  reached  th(( 
door,  he  stopped,  and  bursting  into  tears,  sobbed  out, 
"  Leonore !  poor  sister  Lconore  !  Miss  Aldeane,  this  will 
kill  her!" 

These  words  seemed  to  arouse  Eddie,  who  had  been 
standing  by  Aldeane's  side,  crying  silently  and  bitti-rly. 

"  Oln  Miss  Aldeane,  I  believe  she  is  already  dead  !"  he 
cried,  "  she  is  lying  in  her  room,  so  white  and  still." 

Aldeane  had  dr.  aded  to  witness  the  agonizing  scen(> 
which  she  knew  wouhl  >.'nsue  upon  Leonore's  restoration 
to  consciousness,  and  knowing  that  she  was  in  good 
liands,  had  refrained  from  going  to  her.  l?ut  now  she 
feared  that  lier  absence  M'ould  be  noticed.  She  arose,  and 
leaving  the  three  weeping  children  together,  passed  into 
liConore's  room. 

Zettie  and  another  servant,  with  a  physician,  were 
there.  Leonore  had  opened  her  eyes,  and  was  regarding 
them  with  a  vacant  stare. 

"We  have  just  succeeded  in  bringing  her  to  conscious- 
ness," whispered  the  doctor.  "1  am  very  glad  you  have 
eoine.  Mrs.  Arendell  and  i\Ir.  Blake  are  with  the  colonel. 
The  excitement  through  which  he  has  passed  has  pro- 
duced brain  fever,  and  he  is  very  delirious." 

Aldeane  heard  this  without  much  surprise  or  interest 
beuig  awakened,  her  thoughts  were  too  wholly  en- 
grossed by  Leonore,  who  had  raised  herself  ui)on  lier 
elbow,  and  was  gazing  with  bewildered  countenance 
upon  the  anxious  faces  of  those  around  her. 
"  I  fear  for  her  ri-ason,"  muttered  the  doctor. 


at 

\v 
in 

tri 

so 
kn 
sli 

Tr 
<le 

\vi 
aif; 

I'cr 
see 
u'ri 
ino 
iiHj; 
iii'i 
wii 

her 

S"l' 

for 

I 
wit 
see 

toai 

tliei 

I 

seci 


,c,  yet  lie  was  your 

10  quoriod,  turning 
"  Then,  willi  an  cx- 
,  "  I  am  glad  he  is 
like  voice  — "  a  slave, 

efore  he  reached  the 
)  tears,  sobbed  oul, 
ss  Aideane,  this  will 

ddie,  who  had  been 
ilently  and  bitterly, 
is  already  dead  !"  he 
vhite  and  still." 
the  agoniziniT  f*een(> 
jeonore's  restoration 
It  she  was  in  good 
1  her.  But  now  she 
iced.  She  arose,  and 
ogether,  passed  into 

1  a  physician,  were 
s,  and  was  regarding 

png  her  to  conscious- 
i  very  glad  you  have 
!  are  with  the  colonel, 
has  passed  has  pro- 
"lirious." 

h  surprise  or  interest 
'ore  too  wholly  en- 
;ed  herself  upon  lier 
lildcred  countenance 
ind  her. 
the  doctor. 


.1  Lf)  i:.\  \  !■:. 


2t»3 


Aldenne  approaeluMl  her,  and  took  Iior  hand.  T.eonorn 
at  that  moni-nt  seemed  to  have  a  siiuht  neollcclimi  ,,r 
what  hal  transpiivl,  \\.v  ,liimitig  tn  Uw  IViri!  1  sli  ■  cri  .,1 
in  iVen/aeil  aceciits  :  — 

"Tell  me,  ii'll  nr\  AM-ane,  what  has  happenc  i !  A!i !  is  it 
true  that  (icorgc!  that  (icorge — "  Shegaspel  rnrl'jvath. 
AMcanc  could  make  no  reply.  The  alteiilaiits  tunu'd 
sobbing  away,  !iiid  the  kind-hearted  doetor,  mIio  had 
known  and  loved  Leonore  from  her  binli — groaned 
slightly.  ° 

T,eonoro  looked  wildly  from  (ace  to  face.  "Ah,  ves ! 
T  remember  !  I  remember  I"  she  shrieked  at  last.  "  Oh",  his 
dear  face  was  bruised,  and  his  lips  mamrled  so!"  And 
with  a  wild  scream  she  fell  back  upon  the  pillows  and 
again  became  luicouseions. 

Tlinnigh  all  the  events  of  the  morning,  Aideane  had 
remain<'d  eabn  .and  tearless.  The  fountain  of  her  tears 
seemed  drieil  by  the  very  intensity  of  her  horror  and 
grief;  but  now,  wlien  lier  womanly  symj>athies  Avere 
most  strongly  aroused  by  the  sight  of  Leonoiv's  sulfer- 
ings,  tears  burst  vehemently  fortii,  streaming  freely  over 
her  p.ale  cheeks,  and  falling  n])on  those  paler  still  over 
which  she  bent. 

A   low   moan   of  deep   anguish,  after  a   long  ]ieriod, 
heralded  Leonore's  second  return  to  consciousness.     She 
s^'cmed  to  be  ])erfectly  aware  of  all  that  had  befallen  her, 
for  she  jiartly  arose  and  <Tied : — 
"I  must  see  him  once  morel" 

vVnd  as  they  endoavore<l  to  restrain  her,  site  strn:r'^l(>d 
with  tliem  feebly,  saying :  "Lot  me  go  to  him!  I  will 
see  him  again  !" 

"You  shall  soon,  dearest,"  said  Aldeano,  through  her 
tears.  "  IJut  wait  a  little  while,  vou  will  be  stron«-er 
then." 

Leonore  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  wildly.  Her  ey(>s 
Beeme<l    kirning   ar.d   dry,  but    i)resently  l!'c>y   beeaino 


20-t 


ALDEANE. 


T 


humid,  niul  with  a  gasping  sob  she  throw  her  arms 
around  Ahloano,  and  laying  her  face  upon  ner  bosom 

^The'doctoV  seemed  much  relieved  at  this  exhil>ition  of 
feelin'T  "There!  there!"  he  said,  "that  is  better^ 
Then'to  Aldeane.  "  I  can  leave  her  now  wivh  you  with- 
out immediate  danger  of  her  fainting  agam.  I  will  go 
now  to  Colonel  ArendcU.  I  fear  tha'.  he  needs  my  ser- 
vices as  much,  if  not  more  than  his  daughter. 

Leonore  wept  for  a  long  time,  and  Aldeane  endeavored 
in  v;iin  to  comfort  her:  not  striving  to  repress  her  tears, 
but  to  produce  a  less  spasmodic  and  more  quiet  flow. 
An  old  gentleman  entered  the  room.  It  was  the  clergy- 
man who  was  to  have  performed  the  marriage  ceremony 
Leonore  cried  bitterly  as  she  recognized  him.  He  seemed 
greutly  affected,  and  Tvhispered  to  Aldeane  :— 

"Leave  her  alone  wi:h  me  a  few  mmutes.  I  would 
comfort  her  if  possible.     Jesus  hath  balm  for  every 

^Aldeane  arose,  and  motioning  him  to  her  chair,  then 
beckoning  to  the  servants  to  follow  her,  left  the  room. 

In  the  hall  she  met  Mr.  Blake. 

"I  want  to  speak  to  you,"  he  said.  "No  one  else 
Bcems  rational.     Come  into  the  library  a  moment,  it  you 

^  Shefollowed  him  into  the  designated  apartment,  and 
took  a  seat  near  the  window.  Mr.  Blake  remained 
standing,  looking  at  her  doubtfully. 

"This  is  ?.  very  sad  thing.  Miss  Aldeane,"  he  said  at 
last  with  a  sigh. 

She  bowed  assent. 

"You  see,"  he  continued, « that  I  did  hear  his  voice 
last  night,  although  you  all  seemed  incredulous  at  the 
time.     Still  to  me  it  sounded  like  the  voice  of  a  child. 

"It  was  probably  the  shrill  tone  of  despair  and  the 
distance  that  gave  it  the  well  remembered  sound,"  replied 


T 


ALDBAliF. 


205 


le  threw  lier  arms 
36  upon  nor  bosom 

It  this  exhibition  of 
"that  is  better!"' 
now  wivh  you,  with- 
g  agiiin.     I  will  go 
\%  ho  needs  my  ser- 
iaughter." 
AUieiuie  endeavored 
to  repress  lier  tears, 
id  more  quiet  flow. 
It  was  the  clergy- 
marriage  ceremony, 
zed  him.   He  seemed 
.Ideanc : — 

r  minutes.    I  would 
ith  balm  for  every 

m  to  her  chair,  then 
her,  left  the  room. 

?aid.    "No  one  else 
iry  a  moment,  if  you 

ated  apartment,  and 
yir.   Blake  remained 

Aldcane,"  he  said  at 


I  did  hear  his  voice 
id  incredulous  at  the 
he  voice  of  a  child." 
e  of  despair  and  the 
ibered  sound,"  replied 


Aldeane.     "  You  know  a  slight  resemblance  will  awaken 
remenibranecs  of  things  fraught  with  cruelty  or  injustice." 

lie  colored  deeply,  and  bit  his  li])s  nervously.  "I 
wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  the  funeral,"  he  said,  at 
length.  "  I  am  hesitating  w'.. ether  to  have  him  buried  in 
tiie  grave-yard  of  the  whites,  or  blacks." 

Aldeane  arose^a  flush  of  uidignation  mantling  her  face. 
"You  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter,  I  l.ilieve!" 
she  said,  hastily.  "Mrs.  Areudell  will  no  doubt  see  that 
due  honor  is  awarded  to  the  remains  of  her  daughter's 
betrothed  husband." 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  offend  you,  ^Miss  Guthrie,"  an- 
swered Mr.  Blake,  humbly.  "  You  know  that  my  desire 
is  altogether  on  the  contrary."  Aldeane  started,  impa- 
tiently. "  But  it  seems  that  I  can  never  hope  to  win 
your  regard," 

"That  is  true,  sir;  you,  indeed,  never  can!"  replied 
Aldeane,  haughtily.  "If  this  is  all  you  have  to  say  to 
me,  I  will  go.  Mrs.  ArendcU  can,  no  doubt,  be  consulted 
concerning  the  burial  of  Mr.  Raymond." 

Mr.  Blake  sighed  deeply,  twirling  his  hat  in  Jus  hands 
uneasily.  Aldeane  passed  out,  and  in  the  hall  met  the 
clergyman,  who  had  just  left  Leonore. 

"  How  is  Leonore,  now,  Mr.  Aldery  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Calmer  than  when  you  left  her,  but  still  inconsolable. 
She  screams,  and  appears  ready  to  faint  every  time  poor 
Raymond's  name  is  mentioned.  I  suppose  she  knows 
nothing  of  his  being  of  negro  blood  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Aldeane.  "  But  I  suppose  it  is 
pU  over  the  country  before  this — such  news  travels  fast." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  I  hoard  it  on  my  way  here.  You  may  im- 
agine how  I  was  shocked.  I  had  been  summoned  to  a 
place  of  joy,  and  fomid  the  habitation  of  mourning  and 
desolation.  I  stationed  a  servant  at  each  road,  to  inter- 
cept the  wedding  guests,  if  any  should  come.  Several 
have  been  turned  back,  I  believe." 


tii»(J 


.4  /.  I)  i:  A  NK. 


"  You  iiro  very  llioiiLrlnriil,  Mr.  AMery." 

"Do  you  know  wlrsi  tlic  I'luural  will  trke  i-liico,  Misrt 

riutliric'v" 

"'ro-uKiiniw,  1  prcMUMc.  Mi'anwhiU',  Mr.  AMiry,  I 
hopi-  you  will  ivniaiu  with  us.     We  •A\  uccd  cdUirort." 

"You  liavi-  liornc  u))  w(ui<icrtully.  Miss  (;uthric,"  rc- 
plii-a  tlu-  luiuisti'!-,  luukiiitr  at  her  comi.assioii.vtily.  "  You 
arc  very  pale,  :<>y  cliilil.    Try  uow  to  ohtaiu  a  little  ro:  t. 

"I  do  net  uocd  it  yet ;  how  can  T,  wluii  otiic'-s  aro  suf- 
(Vriui?  ^o  much  iiuir'c  deeply,  Mr.  Aldcry?  I  luust  uo 
now  an<l  see  to  the  servants.  Mrs.  Arendell  is  still  with 
the  colonel,  I  suppose." 

The  tjood  minister  turned  away,  with  a  siu;h,  ami 
Aldeane  proceeded  to  the  kitchen,  hopinji  to  find  .\unl 
Uoxy  there, hut  it  was  deserted,  save  t.yoiu'  little  urchin, 
who  was  roHiiii,'  »!'""  <•"'  *'"'"''  ^''•''"i"'"'?-'  horrihly,  and 
crying  distractedly. 

"Hercules,  Hercules!  Avhat  is  the  matter?"  exclaimed 
Ahleane,  shakiuu;  hini  by  the  arm.  "  For  nuury's  sake, 
child,  tell  nu'  wliat  is  the  nuitter  r" 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  go  tor  to  drownd  ]\iass'r  George.  I 
didn't  CO  for  to  drownd  him  !"  he  sohhed. 

"Wiiy!  whiit  do  you  nu'anV  What  had  you  ti  do 
with.  itV"  demanded' Aldeano,  greatly  mystitied  by  tlu- 
cliild's  words. 

"Oh,  I  hung  up  de  snake  in  de  tree  to  n.-ke  it  rain! 
hut  I  only  'spected  it  to  rain  a  lectle,  jest  'n\dl"  to  make 
de  corn  <}row.  T  never  had  no  idee  of  its  comiu'  so's  to 
drownd  Mass'r  (ieorge  1"  And  he  burst  into  a  fresh  series 
of  screams,  grimaces,  and  eoAtortions. 

'•  Why,  1 1  ercules !"  replied  Aldeane,  scarcely,  even  in  her 
distress,  able  to  rei>ress  a  smile  at  his  ludicrous  a]>i>ear-. 
ance.  "Tlu'  snake  didn't  make  it  rain.  Yon  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  it.  (4od  sent  the  tempest."  After  Bonu> 
time  she  succeeded  in  making  the  child  believe  this ;  then 
she  left  him  au<l  relurned  l.eonore's  rot)m. 


ALDEANE. 


207 


ilcry." 

will  t.'kf  plncc,  MisH 

•liilo,  Air.  Aldcry,  I 
iiU  lu'i'd  c'oinlbrt." 
,-,  Miss  (itilhm',"  rc- 
ipiissionatfiy.  "  Voii 
obtain  ii  little  rt-rt. 
wluM  «tli(""s  aro  siif- 
VlikTy?  I  imisf  uo 
AroiuU'll  is  still  with 

r,  with  r.  sin;h,  and 
hopinsj;  to  find  Ainit 
>  hy  one  little  urchin, 
iiiaciuij:  horribly,  and 

•  inattiTf  oxclaiincd 
"  For  mercy's  sake, 

d  Aiass'r  Gcovgc.     I 

)bbed. 

Vhat  liad  you  ti  do 

illy  mystitied  by  the 

tree  to  ^^■•^o  it  ruin  ! 
,le,  jest  'null"  to  nuvke 
0  of  its  coniin'  so's  to 
irst  into  a  fresh  series 

IS. 

c,  scarcely,  even  in  her 
his  ludicrous  a]>i>oar-. 
rain.  \o\\  had  noth- 
?nipest."  After  Bonu' 
liihl  believe  this ;  then 
i  room. 


She  found  her  still  weejiin',^  hystcricnlly.  Her  mother 
was  with  her,  striviii--  to  impart  consolation,  while  sho 
needed  it  .•linmst  as  much  lurMll'.  She  seenu'd  nearlv 
ediaiistod,  ami  Aldcane  f.-r  the  lirst  time  rememl.crei'l 
that  tiu'y  had  tasted  nothinij  for  the  d.ay.  Quickly  leav- 
ing- the  room,  she  went  down  into  the  diniuix-rnom.  'I'he 
wcddin-f  breakfast,  still  untouched,  was  spread  upon  \\w 
table.  I'lacinu  a  jilate  of  cold  chi.-lcen  and  biscuits  upon 
a  salver,  with  a  decanter  of  wine  and  some  jxlassos,  she 
took  them  up  to  JiCouore's  room. 

Airs.  Arcndcll  seemed  very  cjratefiil  to  Aldcane  f.r  thirt 
thought  fulness,  mid  a  irlass  of  the  genial  wine  nave  new 
life  to  Leonore's  llatiLtinLC  pulse. 

"iSldeane,"  she  said,  entreatiiigly,  "I  nuist  see  him 
now;  I  can  wait  no  lontrer." 

Without  a  word,  Aldcane  passed  her  arm  around  her, 
and  supported  her  down  the  stairs.  At  the  i)arlor  <hior 
they  paused  for  u  nionu'nt. 

"Can  you  bear  it?"  whispered  Aldeane. 

"  I  must  see  him,"  murmured  Leonore,  layim^  her  hand 
.  '.  m  the  knob  of  the  door. 

ihey  went  in.  The  room  Avas  deserted  and  daikened. 
Approaehintj  the  covj.se,  Leonore  drew  down  the  sheet 
th;it  covered  the  face  cf  the  dead,  'ooked  at  it  with  awful 
calmness  for  a  few  moments,  then  sinkini;  upon  her  knees 
at  his  side,  remained  for  some  time  in  silent  prayer.  The 
niyed  clergyni.-m,  unperceived,  had  entered,  and  regarded 
lier  Avith  a  look  of  de(>])  aiul  tender  solicitude. 

"  Aly  daughter,"  he  said,  as  Leonore  arose  from  lier 
knees,  and  bent  over  lu-r  dead  lover,  "my  daughter,  trust 
in  God.  Endeavor  to  become  resigned  to  this  great  in- 
fliction, it  may  be  the  least  of  two  evils  that  have  been 
hanging  over  you." 

Leonore  nuide  no  reply,  but  drew  the  sheet  farther 
down.  Haynijud's  features  had  become  more  composed, 
and  his  fa;e   was  less  livid  than  when  she  hail  looked 


208 


ALDEANE. 


upon  him  in  the  nioininf?.  Thi-y  liu<l  unuycd  him  in  !i 
ln-autifiil  Huit  lie  liiitl  imri>()«»Ml  t..  wciir  :il  his  hri(hil. 
Ilin  hands  wiTc  I'olilcd  upon  liin  Inrast,  iind  :i  look  of 
drop  ciiiiani'ss  had  sottli'il  over  him.  'Vr.xw*,  of  vioh'iit 
]»8Ht»ionH  wore  still  vi^ihle  upon  his  fiwo,  hut  they  Avere 
very  tliin  and  seemed  almost  mer;;ed  into  ju'rfeet  se- 
renity. 

"  Yes,"  said  Leonore,  slowly,  "  this  may  indeed  \m 
tlie  least  of  two  evils.  I  might  have  forgotten  the  com- 
mandment, '  Make  not  unto  yourself  idols,'  and  with  it 
my  Ciod.  I  ean  never  forget  now  the  hantl  that  has 
smitten  me." 

"  Still  (iod  will  be  merciful  to  yon.  Can  you  believe 
that  V"  asked  the  minister. 

"  Yes,  Jesus  lives,"  she  returned  with  simple  faith,  in 
a  voice  that  revealed  to  her  listeners  that  all  of  comfort, 
or  hop.'  to  her,  was  in  the  name  of  the  lledeemer. 

She  looked  again  upon  her  lover.  Something  appeared 
to  attract  her  attention.  IJending  down,  she  drew  forth 
from  the  vest  pocket  a  tiny  gold  circlet,  the  wedding 
ring.  She  threw  herself  upon  the  body  with  a  moan  of 
despair.  ^Ir.  Aldery  raised  her  in  his  arms.  She  placed 
the  ring  ni.on  her  finger,  kissing  it  and  crying  frantically. 
"  I  am  his  wife !  I  will  stay  with  him.  Let  me  die  upon 
his  bosom!"  and  she  threw  herself  again  upon  her  lover, 
kissing  his  cold  lips  eagerly,  and  calling  his  name  in 
piercing  tones. 

With  some  difficulty,  Mr.  Aldery  raised  her  up,  and 
bore  lu-r  away ;  while,  unable  longer  to  control  her  feel- 
ings, Aldeane  sank  into  a  chair,  and  cried  aloud  in  her 

anguish. 

The  day  passed  very  drearily.  The  negroes  gathered 
in  groups  in  the  garden  and  cabins,  and  with  awe-stricken 
voices  talked  of  what  had  transpired,  scarcely  able  to 

realize  it. 

Colonel   Arendell  was  delirious   all   day,  and  talked 


mot 

he  ' 

as  p 

dee 

loui 

A 

in  h 

bad 

hori 

to  p 

It 

the 

Jilal 

men 

was 

told 

sign: 

witn 

unfo 

M 

her 

the  1 

and] 

coult 

At 

arose 

that 

said: 

"I. 

bofor 

Al. 

the  1 

mond 

flowe 

mouri 

gathe 


•1  urruyed  liiia  »»  n 
wciir  ;it  Ms  bridal, 
cast,  aiul  a  look  of 
TracoM  of  violent 
fa<'(<,  Imt  tlii'y  Avorc 
I'll   into  jii'i-ft'i't  80- 

luH   may  in«l«'0(l   ho 

i  foi-jjotten  the  coin- 

f  idols,'  and  with  it 

tl»c  hand  that  has 

.     Can  you  bolievo 

vith  simple  faith,  in 
that  all  of  comfort, 
le  lledccmer. 
Something  appeared 
own,  she  drew  forth 
•irelet,  the  wedding 
ody  with  a  moan  of 
18  arms.  She  plaeed 
ul  crying  frantically, 
n.  Let  me  die  upon 
gain  upon  her  lover, 
calling  his  name  in 

raised  her  up,  and 
■r  to  control  her  feel- 
l  cried  aloud  in  her 

he  negrocB  gathered 
ind  with  awe-stricken 
red,  scarcely  able  to 

all  day,  and  talked 


ALD  K.\  X  i:. 


200 


incoherently,  and  som.'tinu-s  so  loudly  and  wildly,  that 
he  was  heanl  all  over  the  house,  arons'ing  even  fA-onor.', 
as  she  lay  wnpiiigaiid  moaning  in  her  cl.jwnlK-r,  from  her 
<leep  grief,  to  a  rague  feeling  of  terror  as  she  heard  his 
loud  ravings. 

Aunt  Samira  was  in  one  of  the  cabins  almost  insane 
in  her  wild  grief,  calling  upon  her  fonner  master  to  come 
back,  and  upon  herdeail  son.  The  negroes  listened  with 
horror  to  her  cries,  then  turned  away,  and  lell  her  alone 
to  pour  out  tier  woe. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  the  funeral  should  take  place 
the  m-xt  day.  It  was  to  be  as  private  as  possible,  ^fr. 
IJlake  umU'Hook  every  thing  connected  with  the  inter- 
ment, and,  according  to  Airs.  Arenclell's  directions,  all 
was  done  with  pnipriety  and  elegance.  Leonore  was 
told  when  the  burial  would  take  place,  and  imnu-diately 
signified  lu'r  intention  of  accompanying  the  family,  to 
witness  the  cKjsing  ceremonies  of  respect  paid  to  her 
unfortunate  lover. 

Mrs,  Arendell  and  Aldeano  begged  her  to  desist  from 
her  j.urpose,  fearing  that  she  would  not  bo  able  to  bear 
the  last  cruel  separation ;  but  she  begged  so  earnestly 
and  piteously  to  be  allowed  to  Ik;  present,  that  her  motluT 
could  not  deny  her  the  sad  privilege. 

Afler  a  night  i)assed  in  teai-s  and  prayers.  Leonoro 
arose,  and  calmly  arraying  herself  in  mourning  garments 
that  had  been  hastily  prepared,  turned  to  Aldeane  and 
said : — 

"  Let  us  go  down  now.  I  would  see  him  once  raoro, 
before  strangers  come  to  intrude  upon  my  grief." 

Aldeane  silently  took  lier  hand,  and  led  her  down  into 
the  parlor.  Frank  and  Eddie  were  leaning  over  Ray- 
mond, who  now  reposed  in  a  handsome  -jolMn,  piacin-^ 
flowers  around  liim.  They  were  well  ch..sen.  The 
mournful  periwinkle  and  violet  were  all  that  tliey  had 
gathered  to  place  n-ar  iiim,  whose  life  Iiad  been  s<.  Ii,"iee!y 


'21') 


,t  /,  /)  /•;  .1  y  K. 


,„.l.  m>\  tunrbi.Uv  mnMl.l..  to  uloom  -.nwl  m..li»nH...ly. 
Yh  th.-M-  Hnwrrs",  lik.'  Lis  ,lis,u,sir.o..,  ,.osM..M..l  muHi 
«wt...tm..H,  !UmI  tl...n-l.  typi.-al  of  Hormw  nn.l  .l.ulh, wuv 
al...  ..n.l.l.nialiral  of  fi.it lifuliu'ss  iiiui  l.riU.ty.  _ 

.I.,.M..  M In.MrtlM.  l.nVNi.alffnu'l.l.i..aiUll...si-lu 

of  .l.'Mll.      Im  Iut  l.iui.l  wan  clasia-l  a  mn-l.'  HH.vvy  was- 
lik,.  tlovv.T.     L.oaoiv   Inuk  it   fn.n.  luT,  an,!  i.la.-iM^'  it 
over  llavmon.rs  l.rart,  wl,is,,..n.,l :  •'  Inunortal.ly. 

Ul.-a.u-  io..k.'.l  at  lurii.  HurpriH.-,  as   «li<'  l.cat  to  kiss 
tl...  lips  of  iMT  .l.a.l  lov.T.     SI,.,  was  ,u.rf.r>ly  .aim  an.i 
t..arl.-ss.     A  .1......  S..1TOW  s....,...!   spn  a.l  owr  iuT  wImI- 

face,  una  hn-  >-y.'s  wer..  full  of  a-ony  a-wl  -loo.ny  U-u- 
,U.,,u.ss.     She   s....m.'.l    to   l.avv   w.^'    """1    ''"'   ';'7^';'' 

fuuntai..  was  ..xl,austoa,an.l  t.ow  calmly  a.al  a.s,,a.rn.-ly 
awaiti'il  llu-  «'inl.  . 

Soon,  ,u-i'l-  who  ha.l  .otn..  to  tl.o  <„nm-al-«o,m-  tro.u 
,n..v  n.riositv,  others  as  fmm.ls  of  tl,..  la.mly,  an.l  a  t..w 
fn.m  muv  Horr..w-lK'ixm.  to  ass..ml.l.>,  ai.'l  ....n-ivsiatM.- 

to;,n.tlu.r,  spoke  i,.  l-.w  whis,,..rs,  whi..|.  faiL'^  to  anms.. 
T,.M.„o.-..  fr.m,  th..  a,,atl.y  into  whi.'!.  slu'  ha.!  lalhu.     Mu 
K-it    l.v  tlu'  si.l..  of  Wavmon.l.     Om'  arm  ll.n.w.i  across 
him,  the  other    upraisnl,  tlu-    han.l    .•ov.rm-    her   la.-. 
.Mr-   Arc.ml..!!  (.am.,  i..  with  Mr.  Ahlery,  an.l  the  .ervi.-es 
;„.m  aft..rwar.l  ..o,M>m.m....l.     They  w..re   short   i.»t   .m- 

uressive;  ami   all   the  as^.-mhla-.' w..i.t,  sav..  h.r  wh-.M' 
!n.i..f  was  .l....,.est.     She   still  retaim.^l  the  same  at l.tu.l.., 

movin.r  sli..'htlv  wh..u  one  after  another  eame  to  take  a 
last  h.ok  at  all  'thai  was  m..rtal  .)f  (ieor-e  Uaym.m.l. 

At  last   Mr.  Ulake  and  sonu' others  approaeh...!  to  .•!.-•■ 
the  e.,tlin',  preparatory  to  renn.vin-  it.     Mr.'  T.lak.-  ....nlly 

vaisea  her  arm,  and,  lor  the  tirst  tim.-  she  un...n-en.a  „  :■ 
fue.N  an.l  h.ok.Ml  n,.  in.imrin._ay.  All  were  sho..kea  at  \u 
ehan.'.'  manitest  v:  hw  eounten.ane...  U.  was  ..t  an  ash.  u 
luR.  an.l  .le.'P  lin  .s  of  hlue  covered  her  ...)mpr..sse.l  lips, 
I'dUvaiJ.dhe.mmnduleyes.  Ih.r  little  hands,  as 
tlu'V  lav  "!.'>n  l'''''  '"1'^' >^  -armenls,  apiH-ar...l  ..maciat.'-l, 


nn. 

hill 
lil;i 

hro 

S 

the 

h..r 

pia; 

lip  i 

fero 

risir 

kiss. 

(•(.(.I 

Tl 

ahoii 

HO  ft  I 
lii 

(ill's.) 

Ala.. 

Th 

acraiii 

.slic  1. 

"'I 

and  II 

A 

feebly 

won.l 

IxM'an 

lay  11 1 

ana  t. 

the  !,'! 

A  c; 

aspUi 

the  1,1 

.'■iiiiliifl 


1, 


■^  J.  i>  r.i  x/:. 


211 


inn,   ]l^)!*»('^'H»'ll    Illlirh 
•niw  mikI  ilc!Uli,«t'i<' 

I  ln'iiitty. 
i.^Milclliil  lit  I  lie  ciitlil 

II  wiiiirl*'  '<iH)\vy  w;i\- 
luT,  ami  i»liii'iM;4  it 

'  lininortiility." 
>,  an  nil!'  lifut  to  kir** 
s  pi>rti'c>ly  ciilin  aii'l 
l>n ml  "Vi-r  lu-r  whit'' 
IMV  ilMil  JiloKlliy  tcii- 
jil"  until  tilt'  ffystiil 
linly  :in(l(U'(*l)airiiiirly 

ic  finicivil— sitiin-  tVniu 

the  iiimiiy,  iiiiil  a  few 
1)Ip,  ami  couviivjiatiii'.'; 
^■liicl\  t'aili'il  to  arouse 
li  sill'  IkmI  I'allrii.  Mil' 
IC  arm  throw  ii  aorons 
III  cdvci'in'j;  h«'i"  1'a<'i'. 
liU'i-y,  ami  tlie  scrvifcs 
V  wi'i-i'  sli(U't   but   iin- 

wcpt.  save  li<r  wIiom' 
ncil  till"  saiiu-  attitiKlc, 
uiotluT  came  to  tako  a 

(u'or'^c  ISaymond. 
ors  ;ip]iroaclit'<l  to  close 
■jit.     iMr.'  IMakc  izciitly 

imc  she  uiicovcrcil  li; '." 
Ml  wore  Khookcil  at  tlio 
I'c.  It  was  of  ail  asli«  11 
'il  hor  comi>ri'ssc(l  lipx, 
I.  llcr  littl'.'  hands,  us 
is,  iiinn'arcil  cinaciatc'l, 


a    1  I  X  w.,h  Hu,1cn„,..     Alllookcl  n,.on  he  pi.vin^Iv 
■      iK'  .viraninl  them  m.t,  i.n,   Mill  lo.,Kc.|  ,  ,.  a,  V,.' 
»    '^•,nM,uiri,„My,n„.|  ,vi,h  a  nliu^ht  aspect  of  re  .roach 

i..-o^:;,;:;;rh:;;^;',: -->-'^>'-^'--"".Ai,.crc,, 

Ml."  .vmaincl  a  .mmmnt  as  if  stniH-ficl,  tlun  Lent  ovr 

oo  psc  ami  lay.n.  her  hca.l  n, si ,„,  c , 

-,  s  .Inn.  deeply,  uhil,'  l.cr  ,ip.  ,„.,,,,  ,,  ,,  ,, 
'•'.^"-      ""■  ^'"<-l  deriryniai,  l,.',„  his  head,  ami  oircd 

'•.':'•         l"'MreM,^Mh   re,p,ired  seemed  ,dven   to   her-   ti.r 

M....s|u.,«azed.,p.n,thel.,.iuved(an.,.„cen.o.   .',       : 

;;'-ll..seo,dlip,amH;'eldy.m.,l I  to  ,  li;  ,:  p:,;: 

'''•';  •■""!■;  was  Hoon  screwed  down,  aii.l  il.c  men  were 

Ald.'anein  a  deathlike  swoon.  .i"'- ami 

Tho  earria^^cs  were  n-turnin^  from  the  ^,  ave  when  she 
■M^.. in  he.'an,e  .'onscmus.     |  J,.isi„.  ,,,,,,„.  j,,^.    .„ 

••^Iie  looked  out,  and  said:—  . 

"They  have  returned.     All  then   is  over.     liavnmnd 
""d  my  heart  are  buried  L.-ethor."  -it.ivmon.l 

A   short    time   afh-rward    she  "arose   and    ^lowlv  and 
'-'•l.v  ^yalke.l  n.toan  adjoinin.  roon.     Aldeane  follow 
;--'-•....   much  what  her   motn'e   couhl    he.  :     ' 

•"-"""  "I'pa-ent.     The  weddin,.  dress  ami  paraphern.. 
;y';i".".u.l.ed.      Approachi,..  it  she  sat  'h.w  " 

.         ..ok  the  Garments  in  her  hands,  passing  then,  over 
tlu^hstemi.^satn.an,    throu.il  the, olds  of  nehlaee. 
A  c.  1  et  lay  l.es>d.'  her.     ( »penin,r  it.  she  took  from  it 

n^.l...^.setof.l.amomls-Kaymo„d's.i,.     sheclas:.: 
'""I'.^l't   tell    u,,on    the    sparklim^.    .<.n.s,  smiled    almost 


212 


ALDEA.VE. 


,„ock\nMv.    Aanm  m,cU»ping  them  Ac  replaced  them 

'"^^::irA;s™aYS;r;^--oon,et 
me  h!  h„,«  i^  ."y;f  •«"i,,t':.-i,,'  r;;  t"  ::^ 

V  mv  hanpv  nuptial-tlay.     ln«  tliamoims  i  ^iv  j 

me     ThcMCwels  of  Heaven  will  Hliine  l.nghtei  lot  me. 

Weeping,  Aldeano  murmured  her  promise. 

"Now  leave  me  alone  a  little  while. 
Vklole  turned  away,  and  went  to  her  own  room,  and 
pl^c  d  tl"  W    -  drawer  of  her  writing-desMhen 

throwin'  he  self  upon  the  hed  she  wept,  until  tied 
nature  daimed  repose  in  sleep,  while  Leonore  m  solitude 
wrentreating  5iat  heavenly  strength  and  gmdanco 
^hich  alone  eould  enable  her  to  live  under  the  dire 
afflictions  that  had  darkened  her  young  We. 


;m  she  replaced  them 

(1  each  article  of  the 

lompletoil   Hhe   i)acke(i 

2k  trunk,  locked  it,  and 

cy,  sayint;; : — 

low  it  will  be  soon,  let 

iS,  for  that  will  indeed 

iamonds  I  give  to  you. 

inr;,  in  remembrance  )t 

hine  brighter  for  me." 

er  promise. 

while." 

t  to  her  own  room,  and 

)f  her  writing-desk,  then 

she  wept,  until  tired 
hile  Leonore  in  solitude 
strength   and  guidance 

to  live  under  the  dire 
young  life. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 


A   LONG    AND    FATKFUL   TALK. 


For  several  days  after  the  terrible  excitement  produced 
by  Raymond's  death  and  burial,  Aldeane  felt  but  little 
curiosity  to  leani  more  of  his  life  than  that  which  had 
been  so  tragically  revealed,  but  one  day  a  few  words  from 
Mr.  Blake  caused  her  to  remember  that  it  was  toward  him 
Raymond's  vengeance  was  directed,  and  also  that  he  h;ul 
insinuated  that  his  story  had  been  written  for  her  perusa!, 
because  of  some  possible  benefit  it  might  one  day  be  to 
her.  Thinking  of  all  this,  she  retired  earlier  than  usual 
one  evening,  and  although  she  was  quite  wearied  out  with 
much  attendance  upon  Colonel  Arendell,  who  for  some 
days  remained  extremely  ill,  and  with  quiet  devotion  to 
Leonore,  whom  she  saw  with  consternation  gave  evident 
tokens,  not  only  of  mental  anguish,  but  of  decided  ill- 
health,  she  drew  the  curtains,  locked  the  door,  and  taking 
the  packet  from  its  resting-place,  seated  hert,?lf  for  its 
perusal. 

As  was  natural  the  pack^  aroused  many  painful 
recollections,  and  she  shed  '^ny  tears,  and  hesitated 
long  ere  she  could  break  the  seal,  and  even  Avhen  that 
was  done,  the  writing,  albeit  unusually  large  and  clear, 
seemed  dim  and  blurred  to  her  vision,  so  4hat  for  some 
time  she  could  scarcely  trace  even  the  divisions  of  the 
lines.  When  she  had  somewhat  composed  herself,  she  saw 
that  the  manuscript  was  without  preface  of  any  kind,  and 
that  it  began  abruptly  thus  : — 

"  Thirty  years  ago,  Grassmere,  the  place  now  owned  by 


214 


A  LDICA  Xi: 


Cnliincl    Ari-iidi-U,    was    the    proporty    of    lii«    '.>r()tl)er 
Williiiin. 

"Tills  l.rntluT  was  wilil  and  oxtravatrant,  yoi  of  an  o])cn, 
kind  disposilioii,  and  u'lncroiis  to  a  fanlt.  Ah  sncli  men 
nxnally  arc,  lif  was  liilovcil  by  all,  and  by  all  imposed 
npoii. '  The  place  had  lurn  left  to  him  hy  his  father,  free 
from  debts,  b\it  di<l  not  remain  so  long  after  he  obtained 
nolo  possession,  lie  at  last  beeame  deeply  indebted  to 
Colonel  Arend'U,  whose  wife  it  was  said  had  t-ndeavored 
to  win  his  love,  bnt  failing,  had  received  the  addresses  of 
John,  and  had  at  last  marrieil  liini.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
she  seemed  to  harbor  no  ill-fecrnig  toward  him,  but  on 
the  contrary  frennently  nrged  her  husband  to  loan  him 
lartje  s>nns,  though  she  violently  opposed  his  accommo- 
datinir  any  one  else  in  the  slightest  degree, 
C  "William  Arendell  at  this  time  owned  two  mulatto 
girls.  One  was  exceedingly  handsome,  named  Sainira. 
it  is  of  her  alone  I  have  need  to  speak.  That  woman, 
who  Ptill  lives,  and  is  known  to  you,  bore  to  her  master 
a  son,  the  unhappy  being  who  pens  these  lines  to  you." 

Aldeane  knew  all  this,  yet  she  i)ansed  to  think  of  all 
the  misery  this  knowledge  had  eavised  the  proud  heart, 
now  forever  still,  and  then  with  an  eager  desire  to  leani 
more,  she  caught  up  the  ])aper  and  continued  : — 

"Strange  to  say,  my  father  owned  me  as  his  child — 
even  loved  me.  I  was  like  him,  Avith  tiie  addition  of  a 
childish  beauty  perfectffb-emarkable,  and  which  rapidly 
increased  Avith  my  yv.wMt^uw  may  think  this  a  strange 
thing  for  me  to  speak  o^Tbut  it  accoimts  for  my  father's 
\QyQ — not  always  under  these  circumstances  a  sequence 
to  patennty-j*nd  also  for  some  thhigs  which  happened 
later. 

"I  was  a  happy  child,  a  very  hap])y  child,  until  I 
became  about  six  years  old.  vdy  mother  was  virtually 
mistress  ol  the  jilantation ;  and  even  the  master  of  it, 
had  he  wislied  to  do  so,  scarcely  dared  to  cross  me.     1 


i 


if 


•ty    of   liis    'ifotlicr 

iQ;ant,  yei  of  an  ojh'ii, 
fault.  Ah  such  men 
and  1>y  all  inclosed 
ni  by  his  fatlu  r,  fri'o 
ug  after  hv  ohtnincfl 
B  deeply  indebted  to 
<aid  had  endeavored 
ved  the  addresses  of 
Be  this  as  it  may, 
toward  him,  but  on 
liusband  to  loan  liini 
tposed  his  accommo- 
degree, 

owned  two  mnlatlo 
ome,  named  Samira. 
ipeak.  That  woman, 
a,  bore  to  lier  master 
hese  lines  to  you." 
)ansed  to  think  of  all 
<ed  the  proud  heart, 
eager  desire  to  learn 
continued  : — 
led  me  as  his  eliild — 
th  tile  addition  of  a 
e,  a!id  M'hieh  rapidly 
f  think  this  a  strange 
oiuits  for  my  father's 
unstanees  a  sequence 
ings  which  happened 

liapi)y  child,  until  I 
mother  was  virtiuilly 
en  the  master  of  it, 
lared  to  cross  me.     1 


i 


i 


.1  />  />  AM  .V /■;.  .oj,- 

rcinetiii.er  iinw  (iiat  t!ie  plantation  was  tlic  sc^^nc  of  a 
thousand  wild  orgies,  and  ihat  a  great  many  of  (he  least 
favored  negroes  nioiirncl  over  them  a  great  il.al,  and 
then  suddenly  disappeared,  sacritiees  to  their  master's 
extravagancies. 

"At  last  tlicn>  came  a  time  wlion,  for  siv  luoiitlis  or 
more,  scarcely  a  guest  entered  the  liouse,  and  my  father 
seemed  a  changed  man.  At  the  end  of  that  time  lie 
entered  my  mother's  cabin,  took  me  on  his  kuee,  played 
with  me  a  short  time,  and  tiien  suddenly  kissing  me,  said, 
'Samira,  1  am  going  to  be  married  !' 

"My  mother  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  clasping  her 
liands  over  her  heart,  as  if  to  repress  some  vic^lent'emo- 
tion,  but  failing,  wept  passionately.  3Iy  father  looked  at 
her  sorrowfully.  I  st  niggled  to  get  away  from  him,  that, 
I  might  go  to  comfort  my  motiier,  whose  wild  grief  1 
could  not  comprehend;  but  he  held  me  tightlv,  caressing 
me,  and  bi<Ming  me  be  still.  My  mother  at  last  nnii- 
miired  brokenly : — 

'"Ah  !  Mass'r  William  !  what  is  to  become  ot  tiie  boy 
poor  little  June';" 

"'Dry  your  tears,  and  listen  to  me,  Samira,' he  an- 
swered, laying  his  hand  on  her  shoulder.  She  endeavored 
to  do  as  he  wished,  and  was  soon  appaivntly  calm. 

'"Junius  must  go  North,  and  you  with  liim,'  were  his 
next  Avords. 

" '  Anil  leave  you  forever?'  she  queried  (vildly,  her  love 
rising  above  all  other  feelings,  v*' 

"  '  Yes.  You  know  Samira,  hait  I  been  able,  had  the 
laws  allowed  it,  I  would  have  married  you.  IJut,  at  any 
rate,  our  child  shall  be  free.' 

'•'Yea,'  Just  because  you  don't  want  your  wife  to 
see  your  son,  and  so  send  us  away  among  strangers, 
where  we  will  be  scorneil  by  everybody.  I  don't  want 
to  go!  r  wish  I  was  dead,  and  Junius  too!'  she  cried 
l)assionately,_J 


I 


216 


ALDEANE. 


" '  Samira,'  said  hor  master  sternly, '  never  speak  to  me 
in  that  manner  again,  remember  that  I  am  your  master, 
though  the  father  of  your  child.  It  is  love  Cor  him,  and 
a  desire  for  your  happiness  alone,  that  prompts  me  to 
send  you  away.' 

" '  You  loved  me  once,'  she  moaned. 

"A  dark  tlush  passed  over  his  face.  'Yes,  it  is  true,' 
he  replied,  '  but  not  as  I  love  the  lady  that  I  am  about 
to  marry.' 

" '  Y''e8.  If  I  had  been  white  and  rich,  I  might  have 
been  mistress  here,  instead  of  tool  and  slave,'  she  mut- 
tered bitterly. 

" '  Perhaps  so  !     Uut  this  lady  is  not  rich,  she  does  not 

own  even  one  slave.' 

" '  Where  does  she  live  ?' 

" '  In county.' 

" '  When  are  you  going  to  be  married  ?' 

" '  Very  soon — in  about  three  months.' 

"My  mother  covered  her  face,  sobbing  wildly.  At 
last  she  liilcL  'ler  head,  and  said,  brokenly :  '  When  must 
we  go,  Mass'r  William  T 

" '  Soon,'  he  answered.  Then  looking  at  me,  pressed 
me  to  his  bosom,  an  expression  of  grief  and  pain  passing 
over  his  face,  as  he  laid  it  upon  my  clustering  curls 
murmuring,  '  My  poor  little  boy !  my  poor  little  boy !' 

" '  I  don't  want  to  go  away,  without  you,  papa,'  I  said 
through  my  tears,  for  I  had  cried,  8inc<^  first  witnessing 
my  mother's  agitation,  feeling  intuitively  that  some  great 
Borrow  was  about  to  fall  upon  us. 

" '  There  is  time  enough*  to  talk  about  it,'  he  rfeplied. 
Lifting  me  off  his  knee,  and  glancing  compassionately  at 
my  sorrow-stricken  mother,  he  strode  from  the  cabin. 

"It  soon  became  known  to  the  rest  of  the  slaves  that 
the  master  was  about  to  be  married.  I  had  never  been 
a  favorite  on  the  plantation,  as  all  knew  that  I  was  not  a 
mere  slave,  and  supposed  that,  at  some  time,  Islwuld 


b< 

ui 

fe 

ni 

ni 

ai: 

a 

to 

sh 

sif 

pil 

SO] 

sei 
m; 
bri 
ob 

ho 
mc 
dr. 
^•ic 
am 
litt 
vie 
wa 
do' 
for 
sto 
lad 
ruH 
anc 
'G 
cro 
cla! 


# 


T 


AL  D  EAXE. 


217 


y, '  never  speak  to  mc 

vt  I  am  your  master, 

t  is  love  \or  him,  and 

that  prompts  me  to 

ed. 

K-e.     '  Yes,  it  is  true,' 

lady  that  I  am  about 

id  rich,  I  might  have 
and  slave,'  she  mut- 

uot  rich,  she  does  not 


irried  ?' 
)nth8.' 
sobbing  wildly.     At 
rakenly :  '  When  must 

loking  at  me,  pressed 
grief  and  pain  passing 
1  my  clustering  curls 
my  poor  little  boy  !' 
Iiout  you,  papa,'  I  said 
,  8inc^^  first  witnessing 
itively  that  some  great 

c  about  it,'  he  rfeplied. 
ing  compassionately  at 
ode  from  the  cabin. 

rest  of  the  slaves  that 
cd.     I  had  never  been 

knew  that  I  was  not  a 
it  some  time,  I  sliould 


f 


be  emancipated  and  raised  above  them.  I  often  received 
unkind  words  and  looks,  though  seldom  blows,  ibr  they 
feared  my  mother  and  tlieir  ma-ter  too  much  to  iraltrcat 
me.  After  this,  however,  their  manner  changed  toward 
me.  Pity  took  tlie  place  of  envy,  and  solicitude  of 
anger;  for  they  sujjposed  tliat  we  should  be  sent  North— 
ii  word  to  them  synonymous  with  utter  wretchedness— 
to  earn  our  living  among  unpitying  strangers;  or  that  I 
should  be  kept  at  home  to  be  the  special  object  of  oppres- 
sion and  hatred  of  a  proud  and  exacting  mistress. 

"Instead,  then,  of  being  hated  by  all,  each  seemed  to 
pity  me  and  my  wretched  mother,  wlio  seemed  to  dread 
separation  from  my  father  even  worse  than  continued 
servitude  in  his  presence,  and  at  her  old  home,  where 
many  days  of  happiness  had  been  passed,  the  remem- 
brance of  which  even  acute  sorrow  could  not  wholly 
obliterate. 

"At  last  our  master  lirought  his  bride  homo.  Ah! 
how  well  I  remember  tliat  day!  All  the  slaves,  save 
mother  and  myself,  were  dressed  in  holiday  array.  Tlieir 
dread  of  a  new  mistress  seemed  forgotten,  and  they 
jiied  with  each  other  in  loud  protestations  of  attachment 
and  obedience.  My  poor  mother  remained  alone  in  her 
little  cabin,  weeping  over  me,  while  I,  terrified  at  her 
violent  grief,  remained  quietly  in  her  arms.  As  the  sun 
was  near  its  setting,  I  heard  a  carriage  rollin^  heavily 
down  the  road,  and  rushed  to  the  window,  my  mother 
forgetting  me  in  a  fresh  paroxysm  of  grief  The  carriage 
stopped  at  the  gate,  and  I  saw  Mr.  Arendell  hand  out"a 
lady.  I  shouted,  '  Pa !  pa  has  come  I'  and  was  about  to 
rush  from  the  room.  My  mother  sprang  to  the  door 
and  locked  it,  her  face  livid  with  watching  and  waiting. 
'  Go  back !'  she  commanded.  Trembling,  I  obeyed,  anTl 
crouched  in  a  seat  by  the  window,  following  me  she 
clasped  ray  arm  until  I  shrieked  with  pain. 

!  I  forgot!'  she  muttered,  'I  believe  I  shall  '^o 

10 


"•S., 


218 


ALD  EAyE. 


mad.  Liston  to  me,  Junius,  Never  let  me  hear  you  call 
Maas'r  William  pa  again,  he  is  not  your  pa,  and  you 
must  not  call  him  so.' 

" '  Yes,  he  is,'  I  began.  Hut  she  raised  her  hand  with  a 
l)a8sionate  gesture,  as  if  to  strike,  and  with  a  cry  of  terror 
I  shrank  from  her,  and  lay  down,  hiding  my  h"ad  in  the 
pillows  of  my  cot  on  which  I  had  seated  myself,  and  cry- 
ing bitterly,  watched  lier,  as  with  a  countenance  palo 
with  grief,  and  gradually  becoming  stony  in  its  coldness, 
slic  moved  noiselessly  about  the  room.  As  the  dark 
shadows  of  night  fell  darkly  over  us,  rendering  her  almost 
indistinct,  I  iell  asleep,  with  the  first  sorrow  of  my  life 
pressing  painfully  upon  my  young  heart. 

"  The  next  day,  late  in  the  afternoon,  I  ran  from  the 
cabin,  ui  Avhich  my  mother  had  kept  me,  fearing  that  her 
mistress  would  see  me,  and  yet  knowing  that  at  some 
time  she  must,  and  hastening  through  the  garden,  soon 
reached  the   arbor,  now  so  completely  overnm  by  the 
wild  trumpet-vine.     It  was  then  almost  new,  and  very 
beautiful.     Throwing  myself  upon  the  bench,  I  wondered 
for   a  long  time  why  I   could  not  see  my  father,  and 
whether  he  had  ceased  to  love  me,  and  who  the  Strang^ 
lady  could  be  who  had  made  my  mother  so  unhappy, 
and  why  ?    I  thought  for  a  long  time  on  these  points, 
and  I  suppose  fell  asleep.     I  was  awakened  by  a  sweet 
voice,  exclaming  in  accents  of  surprise : — 
" '  Oh !  William,  what  a  beautiful  child !     Who  is  he  ?' 
" '  One  of  our— children.'    He  could  not  say  slave. 
"  I  opened  my  eyes,  and  beheld  a  very  pretty  young 
la  ly,  small  and  fair,  with  a  profusion  of  brown  ringlets 
d looping  over  a  face  of  peculiar   beauty.     Slie  leaned 
upon  the  arm  of  Mr.  Arendell,  and  was  looking  at  me  in 
a  kind  of  delijj|ited  bewilderment.     Not  long  however 
did  l?%Rze  on  her ;  forgetting  all  my  mother's  com- 
mands, in  my  joy  at  again  seeing  my  father,  for  he  had 
been  absent  Bcveral  days,  I  rushed  toward  him  with  a 


f 


fihoi 
had 

arni! 
lilm 
tears 

"] 

over 
it  ( 

^^  ( 

iiidig 
as  if 

tell   ; 
that  : 

you  a 
i  lov( 
"S 
face  V 
Naid. 
of  foil 

(HI 

surpri 

romen 

•leed  ? 

"'I 

you  r 
hitter] 

Hi  J 

do  wi 
'twoul 
I5ut  ot 
deprav 
own  fl( 

replied 


T 


ALDEA  N  E. 


let  me  hear  you  call 
;  your  pa,  and  you 

lised  her  hand  with  a 

with  a  cry  of  terror 
ding  my  h"ad  in  the 
,ted  myHclf,  and  cry- 

a  countenance  palo 
iitony  in  its  coldness, 
oom.  As  the  dark 
rendering  her  almost 
St  sorrow  of  my  life 
eart. 
oon,  I  ran  from  the 

me,  fearing  that  her 
owing  that  at  some 
igh  the  garden,  soon 
itely  overnm  by  the 
Imost  new,  and  very 
tie  bench,  I  wondered 
;  see  my  father,  and 
and  who  the  Strang^ 

mother  so  unhappy, 
time  on  these  points, 
awakened  by  a  sweet 
ise : — 

child !     Who  is  he  ?' 
lid  not  say  slave, 
a  very  pretty  young 
on  of  brown  ringlets 

beauty.  She  leaned 
was  looking  at  me  in 
Not  long  however 
11  my  mother's  com- 
ny  father,  for  he  had 
d  toward  him^with  a 


219 


¥ 


shout  of  joy,  exclaiming,  'Oh,  pa!  I'm  so  glad  you're 

"Vielding  to  his  first  impulse,  ho  clasped  me  in  his 
arms,  k.sn.g  me  wannly.     His  ,vife  looked  fZ,  ne 
urn  m  amazement.     At  last,  in  .  voice  half-chok  d  vi  h 
toar^S  «he  demanded  :  '  Whose  ,-hiId  is  that  v' 

He  p  ace,l  me  on  the  ground,  a  crimson  "flush  nassincr 
over  luH  face  as  he  replied  :—  passnig 

"'  It  is  the  ..hild  of  a  young  .nulatto  woma,..' 

And  yours!    an.l   yours?'   she  asked,  ea^reriv    not 

Alice,  J  ou  know  I  have  not  deceived  you.     Did  I  not 
II   you  that  my  youth  was   spent  wildlv,  reclde  sW 

t\reT  r  '\;"  "T^  "^«  "''  '^"^«  a„d'i.i,.oce  t  L' 
nrhim. '  ^'"'  ^''"'  *'^*  '^  ™^  ''"''^^'  -^''  "-t  to  you, 

"  She  lai,l  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  looking  up  into  his 
fi^ce  wuh  her  gentle  eyes.     '  I  do  not  wo.uier  at      ' 
S.U  1.       He  IS  a  beautiful  image  of  vourself.     You  spoke 
<.t  iolh.., 'tis  true,  but  I  did  not  expect  to  find  c-nme' ' 

siiipn.  ,    Alice,  can  you  reproach  me  so?     Do  von  not 

<KecU  and  do  no  ,  even  now,  conceal  the  truth  from  vou  ' 

It  would  be  impossible  to  do  so,  William !    B^t^^"l 

ou   niuke  a   slave    of   your  own 'child?'      he    aided 

L.tterly,  '  or  what  will  you  do  with  him  ?'  "^ 

;-"M  break  his  motWstll^t^r^t:^ 
Hut  of  course  I  shall  free  him  t     Am   T  H  " 

;'ST? '"  r,-  T-  "■""""  ■"°^'  -//Ua'^j; 

OH  n  flesh  and  blood  in  bondac^e '-'  ^ 

replij^"  ''"  '"'  '"'^^  *''"^^'  ^"-^  ^  '^^^  «tUl,'  sh. 


l^^.^^ 


220  .'  .       ALDEANE. 

"IIo   w.lko,!   ur   ami   down   excitedly.      Wnilc    sho 
watohcl  him,  varviu;,  ..notions  of  clisdum,  .n^^'r,  nu. 
^4mplun,lovo,pss.l  over  her  iacc.  /-as   hcM.an. 

„non  her  I  for-ot  the  s.-en.-  I  had  witnossea  ;  her  Htc.n 
duesti^on.  and  his  .Irange  re,lies,  and  catch.ng  her  dress 

I  exclaimed ; —  .         ,. ,  \i„o„\. 

" « Oh !  what  a  beautiful  lady  I  where  did  pa-  Mass  x 

at  me,  as  one  might  gaze  on  a  briUiaut  jewel.  \on 
are  beautiful,  and  his  child  I'  she  murniured.  I  lo^e 
him,  and  I  can  not  scorn  you.' 

»  Mr   Arendell  threw  liis  arms  around  her.       M>  love, 
my  own,  then  you  will  not  trample  upon  thai  low-born 

*''""'Jno  !  no  1  his  beauty  conquers  me !  William,  I  for- 
give you,  let  him  be  the  same  as  ever  to  you.     1  will 

try  not  to  be  jealous.'  ••»„<•  i„.r  -it 

"Tears  rose  to  her  beautiful  eyes,  m  spite  ot   her  at 
tempted  -ayety,  and  with  an  inarticulate  exclamation 
she  sprang  from  his  embrace,  and  ran  away  to  give  vent 
to  her  grief  and  surprise  in  solitude. 

"  I  reniained  with  my  father,  asking  him  many  questions 
concerning  his  wife.  He  replied  to  none,  but  bade  me 
leave  him.  I  did  so,  and  looking  back,  caught  a  glimpse 
of  his  tace,  paler  and  more  sorrowful  than  I  ever  saw  it 
before,  or  for  a  long  time  at\er. 

"From  this  time  my  mistress  treated  me  very  kincllj , 
and  at  last  really  loved  me.  My  mother  soon  loved,  as 
much  as  she  at  first  had  hated  and  feared  her  and 
became  entirely  reconciled  to  her  who  had  so  completely 
superseded  her  in  her  master's  affections  Ihree  yeais 
passed,  in  quiet  happiness  to  all  "^^  ^'-J™'"^.-  „^" 
children  had  come  to  open  a  new  world  of  aftection  to 
the  young  wife,  and    strangely  enough  she  showered 


/^ 


IICSS 


T 


^  LDKAyE. 


921 


xcitcfUy.     "VVnilc    sho 

face.  I  was  then,  ami 
fhcauty.  Ah  I  lookc.l 
[1  witnoHsed  ;  hor  Htfin 
and  catching  lier  dross 

where  did  pa—  Massi- 
ng on  her  knees,  looked 
brilliant  jewel.  '  You 
[»c  murmured,     'I  love 

around  her.  '  My  love, 
iple  upon  thai  low-born 

crs  me !  AVilliam,  I  for- 
as  ever  to  you.     I  will 

pves,  in  spite  of  her  at- 
narticulatc  exclamation, 
d  ran  away  to  give  vent 
ude. 

sking  him  many  questions 
I  to  none,  but  bade  me 
,g  back,  caught  a  glimpse 
owful  than  1  ever  saw  it 

}  treated  me  very  kindly, 
ly  mother  soon  loved,  as 
,ted  and  feared  her,  and 
er  who  had  so  completely 
1  affections.  Three  years 
)  all  at  Grassmere.  No 
lew  world  of  affection  to 
ly  enough  she  showered 


much  of  her  love  upon  me,  making  me  Iier  constant 
attendant  Shc^  taught  mc  to  read  ;  and  being  quick- 
wilted  and  an\ious  to  learn,  I  made  great  progress.  I 
was  soon  able  u.  n>a.l  to  her  as  she  sewed.  All !  how 
many  happy  hours  I  have  passed  in  her  room  at  Grass- 
mere,  sitting  at  her  feet,  reading  works  that  instructe.l 
us  well  as  amused  me !  oftentimes  interrupted  by  lu-r 
sweet  voice,  exi)laiiiinp;  difficult  passages,  or  laughing 
with  me  over  some  humorous  scene.  How  much  1 
learned  to  love  her  you  can  easily  imagine. 

"  As  I  became  oM  enough  to  feel  the  degradation  of 
slavery,  I  longed  to  Hee  from  it.  To  go,  no  difference 
where,  so  that  I  was  unknown.  The  only  drawback  to 
this  longing,  was  the  grief  I  felt  at  leaving  my  mistress. 
The  negroes,  except  my  nu>tlier,  Aunt  Itoxy,  and  her 
son  Abel,  I  detested  and  despised,  and  would  willingly 
have  parted  from  them  forever. 

"  Preparations  were  many  times  commenceed  for  our 
departure  for  the  North,  but  mother  could  never  endure 
the  thought  of  leaving  her  old  home,  so  it  was  indefinitely 
postponed ;  and  when  I  became  about  ten  years  old  it 
seemed  likely  to  be  delayed  forever. 

"All  was  peace  and  serenity  at  Grassmere,  when  sud- 
denly a  terrible  tempest  swept  over  it,  devastating  its 
beauty  and  destroying  all  happiness  forever.      Of  the 
nature  of  this  calamity  I  shall  not  speak.     It  is  a  secret 
m  the  Arendell  family,  and  I  can  not  disclose  it  even  to 
you.     Sufficii  it  to  say,  it  took  from  our  home  its  master 
and  from  our  hearts  all  peace  and  happiness.     I  shall 
never  forget  the  day  that  the  impending  evil  first  became 
apparent  to  us.     Jolin  Arendell  came  to  Grassmere,  and 
a  scene  of  stormy  recrimination  and  earnest  denials  took 
I'lace  in  the  trumpet-vine  arbor.     The  brothers  parted  in 
anger,  and  to  this  day  remain  unreconciled. 

"  Oh !  what  darkness  fell  upon  us  that  night !     Dark- 
ness that  rests  over  one  in  the  grave,  and  upon  inv  heart 


222 


ALDEANE. 


to  this  .lay.    I  Hhudaer  as  my  thon(?hts  tarn  to  that  .Iroafl- 
ful  time,  aiul  as  quickly  as  possihlc  I  will  pasr,  over  it. 

"The  last  time  I  saw  my  master,  he  was  a  fugitive  trom 
the  law— I  will  not  say  just iec.     My  mistress,  aeeompa- 
nied  only  hy  me,  at  midnight,  led  a  horse  to  the  e.^-o  ot 
the  woods  below  Grassmere,  and  there  we  bade  hmi  lare- 
well;  wo  did  not  think  forever,  but  it  was  even  so. 

"I  can  not  tell  you  all  that  we  suHered  at  that  tnno- 
not  from  bodily  want  or  privation,  but  from  deep  bitter- 
ness of  spirit.     Mrs.  Arendell,  mother,  an.l  I,  were  to  go 
to  Cuba,  where  ray  master  was  to  join  us.    Arrangements 
were  made  as  speedily  and  qui.'tly  as  possible      Ihey 
were  but  partially  made  when  my  mistress's  only  ehil.1 
was  born.     Her  sister  came  to  her,  to  tind  her  dying. 
Not  many  days  elapsed  ere  the  young  mother  died,leav- 
in<^  her  helpless  child  in  the  care  of  her  sister.     This  was 
my  first  great  grief.      I   shall   never   forget   the  utter 
wretchedness  of  my  heart  as  I  gazed  upon  the  corpse  ol 
mv  beautiful  younu  mistress.     1  placed  some  white  rose- 
buds-her  favorit.    iiowers— upon  her  fair  bosom  and 
within  the  pale,  wa.vcn  hands,  my  heart  swelling  with  the 
deep  grief  that  neither  expressed  itself  in  words  or  tears 
For  some  time  I  remained  as  if  stupefied ;  so  fully  did  1 
realize  that  mv  best  and  only  powerful  friend  on  earth 
was  removed  from  me.     Yet,  even  with  the  full  sense  of 
desolation  resting  upon  me,  I  had  no  conception  ol  the 
trials  that  awaited  me.    IVriiaps  it  would  have  been  bet- 
ter for  me  had  they  been  fully  revealed,  for  my  body  as 
well  as  spirit  would  then  have  sunk  under  it ;  I  should 
have  followed  my  beloved  mistress,  without  further  pain 
or  Buflfering,  to  an  eariy  grave.  ,  „       j 

"  The  day  of  the  funeral  arrived.  John  Arendell  and 
his  wife  came  to  Grassmere,  and  many  neighbors  flocked 
in-some  with  curiosity-all  with  sympathy  depicted  on 
their  faces.  In  utter  abandonment  to  my  deep  gnef,  I 
lay  over  r.ather  than  sat  at  the  foot  of  the  coffin.    The 


A  1. 1)  A' A  A'A*. 


)>2'.i 


ts  tarn  to  that  ilrcad- 
[  will  pass  over  it. 
ic  was  a  fugitive  from 
V  iniHlress,  aocompa- 
iiorsi'  to  the  Vi^<*o  of 
•re  wi'  ba(U'  liiin  lare- 
it  was  c'vc'ii  so. 
irttTi'tl  at  that  time- 
but  from  (k'op  bitter- 
lor,  aud  I,  were  to  go 
ill  us.    Arrangements 
y  as  possible.     They 

mistress's  only  child 
r,  to  tind  her  dying, 
ing  mother  died,  leav- 

her  sister.  This  was 
ver  forget  the  utter 
•d  upon  the  corpse  of 
need  some  white  rose- 

her  fair  bosom  and 
eart  swelling  with  the 
:8elf  in  words  or  tears, 
upefied  ;  so  fully  did  I 
.erful  friend  on  earth 
I  with  the  full  sense  of 

no  conception  of  the 
,  would  have  been  bet- 
•ealed,  for  my  body  as 
,nk  under  it ;  I  should 
8,  without  further  pain 

1.  John  Arendell  and 
lany  neighbors  flocked 
sympathy  depicted  on 
lit  to  my  deep  grief,  I 
)ot  of  the  coffin.    The 


negroes,  weeping  loudly,  wi-re  gathered  around.  I  can 
not  reraeml)er  any  tiling  of  the  services.  I  neither  hcnrd 
nor  saw  any  thing.  I  was  aroused  from  scnii-iineonscicnis- 
ness  by  seeing  some  men  approach  to  raise  the  cotliii.  'I'he 
ulster  of  tile  corpse  bent  down  and  kissed  her,  and  with  a 
wild  cry  of  despair  I  rushed  Jbrward  to  look  once  m<  re 
upon  the  dear  face  soon  to  behi.ldeii  from  my  gaze  forever. 
"  Mrs.  Arendell  k^at  near  inc.  Fixing  "her  cold  eyes 
upon  mo  disdaiiifully,  she  turned  to  the  servants,  com- 
manding them  to  'Keniove  that  child.' 

"Xo  one  lieeded  her  words:  wlien,  in  a  peremptorv 
tone,  she  repeated  them.  The  servant  who  came  with 
them  caught  me  in  his  arms  and  carried  me,  sobbing 
loudly,  away,  llie  fountain  of  tears  was  opened  ;  a 
child's  grief  took  the  place  of  the  passionate  despair  that 
had  bound  me.  I  begged  to  go  to  the  grave,  but  was  not 
permitted  to,  and  long  before  the  funeral  train  returned 
I  had  cried  myself  to  sleep,  only  to  awaken  to  deeper 
agony. 

"John  Arendell  and  his  wife  remained  at  Grassmere 
with  their  overseer,  Richard  Blake,  to  settle  affairs  with 
the  sister  of  the  deceased.  A  long  conference  took  place 
in  the  library,  and  excited  voices  were  heard  contending 
loudly.  The  result  of  this  was,  that  ^Miss  Nellie— as  the 
servants  called  her— took  the  child,  declaring  that  as 
they  wished  to  wrong  lier  out  of  most  of  the  property, 
they  might  take  all ;  that  her  pure  liands  should  never 
touch  one  cent  of  the  money,  and  that  she  should  not 
even  bear  the  name  of  the  Arendell  family.  All  that  wo 
could  glean  was,  that  Colonel  Arendell  had  bought  large 
claims  upon  the  estate,  most  of  which  my  mother'declared 
were  false,  for  since  his  marriage,  William  Arendell  had 
been  exceedingly  prudent  and  economical,  and  had  paid 
nearly  all  his  debts.  Colonel  Arendell  seemed  much  ex- 
cited during  his  stay  at  Grassmere.  Mrs.  Arendell  and 
the  overseer  transacted  all  the  business.    Arendell  was  a 


32( 


A  li)i:ake. 


more  autoiiiivton  in  tlu  ir  liiu«ls.  Tho  nofrrocH  all  UkfiJ, 
yet  dcspJHcd  him,  ftH  iniu-h  as  thuy  Imtod  aiul  fciiroil  hi« 
wife.  Tlu'y  a'r«'a«ly  t'llt  llir  in>ii  rotl  l>y  which  hIic  rulftl, 
and  Hoorc'tlv  i-oImUciI  anaiiist  iicr  nnjuBt  authority.  An-n- 
ilcll  was  mon-  a  slave  than  any  in  hiH  wife'H  handH,  obey- 
in-,'  her  slii^htest  eaprice  more  in  fear  than  love,  even  sin- 
ninj^  deeply  to  -iralify  In  r  avariee  and  love  of  po^er. 
Silt-  was  a  heantilul  demon.  Thank  (iod,  I.eonorc  does 
not  even  resemhle  her  in  person,  and,  I  Inixt,  does  not 
possess  one  of  her  vile  jjroi.ensities !  She  was  avaricious, 
eruel,  and  unprimipled !  What  worse  can  he  saiil  of  a 
woman  ? 

".Miss  Nellie  letl  with  the  little  orphan  t-o  days  ailer 
the  funeral,  leaving  her  small  fortune  in  the  hands  of 
Colonel  Arendell,  assnriii!;  him  that  it  should  ni'ver  he 
claimed.  I  never  saw  or  heard  of  either  atlerward,  hut 
I  trust  that  they  both  prospered.  (Jod  has  ])romised  to 
l)rotcct  tlie  good,  and  she  was  truly  one  of  that  -lass. 

"The  estate  was  soon  settled,  and  immediaio  prepara- 
tions were  made  for  removing  a  part  of  the  property  to 
Arendell  House. 

"Mrs.  Arendell  wished  to  reside  at  Grassmerc,  as  it 
■was  much  handsomer  than  the  house  they  then  occupied, 
but  the  colonel  combated  this  desire  with  unusual  reso- 
lution and  firmness.  He  se( mod  to  have  taken  the  great- 
est dislike  to  the  place  that  'lad  been  the  home  of  his 
childhood  and  youth.  His  mind  was  ever  busy  conjur- 
ing up  the  forms  of  those,  whom  he,  an  unwilling  instru- 
n\ent  in  the  hands  of  his  wif;;,  had  wronged.  As  quickly 
as  possible,  he  removed  a  part  of  the  family,  including 
my  mother.  Aunt  lioxy,  her  son,  a!>d  mysvli'  to  Arendell 
House,  leaving  the  others  to  manage  the  fai::.  and  guard 
the  property.  A  valuable  and  beautiful  place  was  Grass- 
mere  at  that  time.  With  all  its  present  beauty,  it  is  but  a 
wreck  of  its  former  self.  The  house  is  chilly  and  dark, 
with  behig  always  closed,  and  the  grounds,  but  carelessly 


w» 

I 

tin 
Y.i 

pul 

('0> 

all 
As 

nin 

<i 

wo  I 

I'urt 

hor 

S\w 

pail 

hoj) 

cam 

slie 

edg 

eseii 

put 

roui 

fath 

love 

han( 

datii 

pror 

Init  i 

and 

hclpl 

i( 

fatht 


lO  ncfjrooH  all  Ukfil, 
itod  ttiul  fcarocl  bin 
l>y  wliu'h  hIic  niU'il, 
St  initliDrity.     Aivii- 

wifo'H  hanclM,  obey- 

tliiiii  lovi',  fvon  siii- 
tlllll    lovi'  of  po"iT. 

(foJ,  lit'onorc  dooa 
1(1,  I  Inixt,  (loi'H  not 

She  was  uvaricioiiH, 
HO  can  bo  waiil  of  a 

|)lian  t--o  tlavH  ailcr 
lie  in  the  hnnils  of 
it  fihouUl  never  bo 
■ither  afterward,  but 
od  has  ])romist'd  to 
one  of  that  vlass. 
,  immediaJe  prepara- 
•t  of  the  property  to 

at  Grassmerc,  as  it 
•  they  then  occupied, 
e  with  unusual  reso- 
have  taken  the  great- 
L>en  the  home  of  his 
as  ever  busy  conjur- 
,  an  unwilling  instru- 
rongcd.  Ah  quickly 
iho  family,  including 
I  mysvli"  to  Arendell 
3  the  fan:,  and  guard 
tiful  place  was  Grass- 
cut  beauty,  it  is  but  a 
ie  is  chilly  and  dark, 
•ounds,  but  carelessly 


.f  LDhlANE. 


2dB 


looked  after,  are  nmning  wild,  while  the  half-ruined  ar- 
hors  and  houses,  with  their  garnitures  of  untamed  lux- 
uriance, sIk.w  plainly  that  part  Jul  dissolntion  reignii 
whore  ail  was  onco  order  and  choorfulnoss. 

"  Xo  sooner  were  we  settled  at  Arondoll  IIouso,  than 
the  hatred  <.f  its  misfriNs  toward  mo  bocamo  apparent. 
^  on  know  how  such  women  lovo  ;  pasHionatoly,  unscru- 
l)ulousIy;  so  had  she  loved  my  father,  but  whoii  siie  dis- 
'•overod  that  tliis  lovo  was  rojootod,  nhe  hated  liim,  and 
all  belonging  to  him,  as  pasxiouatoly  and  unscrupulously. 
As  his  child,  I  was  foronl  to  bosir  all  the  weight  of  her 
malice,  and  it  was  very,  very  heavy. 

"  Aldoano,  I  can  not  toll  you  what  I  siifll^rod  from  that 
woman;   the  numory  of  whom  I  would  fain  cast  from  mo 
Inroyor,  so  utterly  do  I  abhor  it.     I  need  not  relate  tho 
horrible  manner  iu  which  she  continually  persecuted  mo. 
She  madi-  mo  perform  tlu'  nujst  menial  (.tlices,  and,  under 
pain  of  tho  lash,  forbade  nu-  to  read  any  thing  whatever, 
hoping  liius  to  break  my  spirit,  humble  my  i>rido,  and' 
eauso  nu-  to  forgot  all  that  I  had  learned.     In  neither  did 
she  succeed  ;  in  secret  I  satisfied  my  yearning  for  knowl- 
etlgo.     I  thought  long  and  earnestly  over  many  plans  of 
escape  from  bondage,  but  lacked  surticicnt  resolution  to 
put  them  in  practice.     I  felt  far  superior  to  all  that  sur- 
rounded  me,  an*'  suppose.!   that  if  I  could   roach  my 
father,  ho  would  acknowledge  me  as  his  son,  and  by  his 
love  and  care,  reward  n>e  for  all  that  I  suffered  at  the 
hands  of  my  cruel  mistress.     Her  conduct  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  that  firmness,  and  pride,  which  have  ever  been 
prominent  traits  in  my  character. 

"  Sometimes  Colonel  Arendell  faintly  pleaded  for  me, 
but  a  word  or  a  look  silenced  him,  and  with  a  deep  sigh 
and  a  remorseful  look,  he  M'ould  turn  away,  leaving  me 
helpless  in  the  hands  of  my  tormentors. 

"At  lirst  I  know  that  he  wished  to  set  me  free,  as  my 
father  had  intended  to  do,  but  hi«  wife  would  listen  to  no 
10* 


226 


AIDE  Ay  E. 


such  proposal.  She  preferred  to  keep  me  to  vent  her 
Hpite  and  malice  upon,  and  ftilly  she  did  it.  One  can 
Boarcely  conceive  of  a  woman  so  tierce,  bo  perKcvenns  m 
her  haired  as  she  was.  Her  black  eyes  would  glow 
with  fury  when  I  approached  her,  and  her  white  hand 
ring  upon  mv  quivering  flesh.  But  I  will  not  sicken  you 
further,  but  pass  on  to  an  event  that  shaped  all  my  lu- 

'''^Mrs.  Arcndell  possessed  an  elegant  diamond  ring; 
for  some  reason  she  valued  it  above  all  her  jewels.  ^V  hen 
I  liad  been  with  her  some  throe  years  she  lost  it  bhe 
was  usually  very  careful,  yet  sometimes  she  would  leave 
money  and  valuables  on  her  table,  and  none  had  evei 
been  missed  before.  Negroes  will  usually  thieve,  and 
those  owned  by  Colonel  Arendell  were  no  better  than 
others,  but  they  feared  to  rob  her,  and  though  others  ot 
the  family  suffered,  she  was  s-afe  from  depredation. 

"Consternation  seized  on  all,  when  it  became  known 
that  this  ring  was  lost ;  search  was  made  in  every  con- 
ceivable place,  but  it  could  not  be  found  Mrs^  Arendell 
declared  that  bhe  believed  it  to  be  stolen,  and  hat  the 
culprit,  if  discovered,  should  receive  a  severe  whipping. 
I  trembled,  lest  I  should  be  suspected,  and  knew  that, 
although  I  was  innocent,  I  could  not  prove  n  yself  o  be. 
With  the  rest,  I  searched  with  the  greatest  anxiety  tor 
the  missing  jewel,  but  all  in  vain,  not  a  sign  of  it  was  to 
be  discovered. 

"The  day  after  the  ring  was  lost,  Blake  came  to  me  as 
I  was  working  in  the  field,  and  ordered  me  to  go  to  my 
mistress's  room.  I  conjectured  immediate  y  for  what 
and  my  heart  sank  within  me.  I  knew  that  I  was  to  be 
branded  as  a  thief,  and  I  cared  more  for  the  disgrace 
than  the  terrible  punishment  that  was  certain  to  fol  ow 
]Mv  first  impulse  was  to  fly ;  but  I  remembered  that  that 
would  be  useless,  and  only  turn  appearances  against  me 
So  wiping  mv  soiled  bands,  and  putting  on  my  jacket,  i 


T 


eep  me  to  vent  her 
ic  did  it.  One  can 
CO,  BO  perse vcrinpc  in 
i  eyes  would  glow 
and  her  white  hand 
I  will  not  sicken  you 
at  shaped  all  my  fu- 

gant  diamond  ring; 
ill  her  jewels.    When 
ars  she  lost  it.     She 
imes  she  would  leave 
',  and  none  had  ever 
1  usually  thieve,  and 
were  no  better  than 
and  though  others  of 
m  depredation, 
hen  it  became  known 
,s  made  in  every  con- 
found.    Mrs.  Arendell 
e  stolen,  and  that  the 
^e  a  severe  whipping, 
jcted,  and  knew  that, 
ot  prove  ii.  yself  to  be. 
e  greatest  anxiety  for 
not  a  sign  of  it  was  to 

t,  Blake  came  to  me  as 
rdered  me  to  go  to  my 
immediately  for  what, 

knew  that  I  was  to  be 
more  for  the  disgrace 
was  certain  to  follow. 

remembered  that  that 
ppearances  against  me. 
iuttiug  on  my  jacket,  I 


-i  z  z)  EA  yrE. 


2-21 


walked  boldly  to  the  house,  and  to  Mrs.  Arondell's  apart- 
ments. I  knocked  at  the  door;  it  was  oi)ened  by  Colonel 
Arendi'll,  who  was  evidently  greatly  troubled  and  excited. 
Ills  wife  sat  near  the  window,  sewing  on  some  delicate 
fabric,  witli  an  energy  quite  unnecessary.  ILt  face  was 
flushed  with  anger,  and  her  form  trembled  with  the  pas 
sirn  she  vainly  endeavored  to  suppress.  I  went  in  and 
stood  near  the  table  in  the  center  of  the  room,  twirling 
my  cap  in  my  hand,  waiting  patiently  and  fearlessly  for 
her  to  address  me. 

"  The  colonel  looked  at  me  sadly.  'Junius,'  lie  bepan 
'  I  am  very  sorry .'  '^     ' 

"'John,'  interrnj.ted  his  wife,  'you  put  me  out  of  all 
patience  !  Sorry  for  him,  indeed !  A  nigger  has  no  rei)u- 
tation  to  lose,  and  a  thief  does  not  deserve  one  at  anv 
rate!' 

"  I  had  not  been  conscious  of  any  feai  before  this  •  if 
any  had  agitated  me  it  fled  at  that  .noment.  I  stood  Up- 
right  and  demanded,  in  a  loud  voice,  '  Do  you  accuse  me 
of  stealing  your  diamond  ring,  madam  V 

"  She  actually  quailed  under  the  look  with  which  I  re- 
garded her.  '  I  not  only  accuse  you  of  it,  but  I  know 
that  you  did  it,'  she  replied.  '  So,  give  it  to  me  now  and 
your  punishment  may  be  less  severe  than  if  you  persist  in 
retaining  it.' 

" '  You  know  that  I  haven't  got  it.  Miss  Lucinda,'  I 
answered,  in  a  voice  I  endeavored  to  render  calm,  while 
it  trembled  with  passion,  '  you  know  it  well.' 

"  '  Don't  speak  to  me  in  that  manner,  nor  look  at  mo 
so  impudently  !'  she  screamed,  working  herself  into  a  vio- 
lent passion. 

"  Colonel  Arendell  began  to  say  something  in  my  be- 
half. 'Do  you  forget  that  he  is  the  son  of  .a  miscreant^ 
and  that  he  is  a  slave?'  she  demanded,  fiercely.  'Leave 
the  room;  'twill  neither  do  him  nor  you  ary  good  for 
you  to  remain ;  he  shall  not  escape  me !' 


238 


ALDEANE. 


"  I  ike  nn  aWoct  coward  he  obeyed  her,  cut  to  the  qnu-^ 
W  hi  V  n"  Un.  remark,  but  hu-kiug  strength  to  resent  U , 

"For  some  moments  ^\c  itm.m".  »  . 

formed  no  idea  in  what  way,  I  >x.uttil  lor  nc 

*""  w;I;;;»  o.».  nug?  i  k„o«  «>« ,»,.  huv.  u'. 

day.    It  lay  -M.™  "'"  «»'''"'  1"™""^, '"  T' ,     Sh 
«"Lw.    'You  .aw  U  lying  H--,  ami  stole  ,t.    hlav . , 

:i;:p:;xit"not\a.oi.  i-u»yno 

■"""Aldoane  I  can  i.ot  repeat  the  language  in  which  that 
,.„™tl'rlVa„a  de  Jnncea  ,ne.  At  >a.t  Placjng  her 
hand,  upon  my  .honliere,  and  lookmg  do«n  my 

"".?'.t::^,r;r1S;:r,  ,^...^  .na  I  hate  yon  .. 

r^^tnll^it-ILlS^^noSrWaUheean.. 


1 


i 
t 

r 

h 

tl 

q 


n 
n: 

ai 
ai 

n( 
tc 
ni 
li 
si 
w 
]u 

m 
m 
be 
th 

Wl 

pe 
m 

Btl 

of 
it 


ALDEAX  r:. 


229 


licr,  cut  to  the  quick 
trcngth  to  resent  it ; 
»t  accuser. 
,1  silent.     "VVhile  I 

that   I   kn*w   was 
that  passed  rapitlly 

I  sljould  obtain  no 
Cahnly,  anil  with 
houtrli,  of  course,  I 
lhI  for  her  to  speak, 
pense;  she  hVul  lier 
er,  and  hissed  riither 

V  that  you  have  it '. 

■n't  it,'ll•ophed,doff- 
ie  the  truth  when  I 
lo  you  accuse  me  V 
he  day  before  yester- 
tiniX  to  one  near  the 
,  aiid  stole  it.    >Slave, 

ys  gave  to  me,  as  being 
id  degradation.  '  I  did 
,  you  ordered  me  to,'  I 
)f  hatred  and  contempt 
;  I  did  not  notice  the 
ike  it.    I  shall  say  no 

language  in  which  that 
?.  At  last,  placing  her 
ooking  down  into  my 

ave!  and  I  hate  you  as 

hate  you !' 

angly, '  and  all  because 


hewonld  not  mairy  you!    He  would  rather  have  married 
my  mother  than  you  !' 

"  She  turned  deadly  pale,  but  fury  l)lazcd  from  her 
eyes.  Springing  uj),  slje  snatched  up  .a  small  dagicer  that 
lay  upon  the  l)ureau,and  threw  iiersilf  upon  me  with  the 
fury  of  a  tigress.  1  tilt  the  cold  blade  pierce  my  arm; 
then,  with  a  i)owerful  eftbrt,  threw  lier  iiom  nie,  and 
rushed  from  the  room,  the  door  of  wliiclj  closed  loudly 
beJiind  me.  IJcfore  she  could  reach  me  I  jumped  from 
the  porch,  and  was  nmniug  swiftly  toward  tlie  negro 
quarters,  wlien  IJiake  seized  me,  exclaiuiing: — 
" '  Not  quite  so  iiist !  not  quite  so  fast !' 
"  I  struggled  to  get  free,  but  he  was  a  young,  stalwart 
man,  and  held  me  fast.  One  of  the  negroes,  at  his  com- 
mand, brought  a  rope,  and  I  Mas  soon,  panting  with  rage 
and  exertion,  bound  hand  and  foot.  I  was  taken  away  to 
an  out-house  and  chained — yes,  chained  down. 

"  My  mother,  in  agony,  looked  upon  me,  but  I  heeded 
neither  her  entreating  looks  or  tears,  but  fought  impo- 
tently  with  those  that  bound  me,  while  they  laughed  at 
my  blind  passion.  '  Your  blood  is  flowing  now,'  said 
Blake,  pointing  to  the  stream  that  trickled  from  my 
shoulder.  I'll  get  a  new  vhip,  and  let  you  ft-el  tlie 
weight  of  it  to-morrow.  'Twill  draw  a  little  more,  per- 
haps !  and  cool  your  temper  a  little.' 

"  I  remained  for  many  hours  thus  chained.  I  threw 
myself  upon  the  floor,  and,  looking  at  the  manacles  upon 
ray  wrists  and  ankles,  inwardly  resolved  that  when  those 
bonds  were  loosed  all  others  should  be  also.  I  swore 
that  I  would  be  free.  Those  who  looked  in  upon  me 
wondered  at  my  calmness ;  they  could  not  see  the  tem-  ■ 
pest  raging  in  my  heart,  and  the  fiery  thoughts  busy  in 
my  brain.  Not  a  sigh  or  a  tear  escaped  me;  a  new 
strength  animated  me.  I  was  conscious  that  a  new  era 
of  my  life  was  at  hand ;  and  trusting  and  believing  that 
it  would  herald  freedom,  I  calmly  awaited  it. 


3)J 


A  LDEANE. 


«  Nicht  came  in.     Mrs.  Aroudell  had  looked  in  upou  me 
with  triumph,  her  cruel  eyes  alittering  fiendishly,  and  with 
L   detested  image  fre.h  in  my  mind,  I  lay  maturing  plans 
for  the  future.     About  midnight  1  hoar.l  footsteps  oan- 
ZX  appvoaching  the  house.     I  shuddered,  for     loarod 
that  it  was  my  mistress  or  one  of  her  minions,  and  wi  h  a 
thr  1   ofTy,  I  discovered  that  my  fears  were  unfouiided. 
little  Abel  had  stolen  to  me  in  the  ^^--k---'-  hh  wt 
ing  beside  was  sobbing  in  my  breast.     As  I  fel    his  wet 
cheek  pressed  to  mine,  I  almost  forgot  my  resolution  to 
bearall  with  stoical  indiffercnee.    The  tears  rose  to  my  eyes 
but  I  forced  them  back  and  begged  him  to  be  calm.     He 
soon  became  so,  and  told  me  all  I  wished  to  know  con- 
oerning  the  feelings  of  the  negroes  toward  ine.     Nearly 
nil  believed  me  innocent  of  the  charge  under  which  I 
suffered      My  mother  could  not  come  to  see  m»,  but  Abel 
hid  beccrod  to  be  allowed  to  do  so.     He  brought  me  some 
bread,  meat,  and  an  apple.     I  had  not  eaten  since  early 
morning,  but  had  not  been  conscious  of  either  hunger  or 
thirst  rat  eight  of  food  I  felt  overcome  by  both^     There 
was  a  spring  at  a  short  distance,  and  I  begged  Abel  to  get 
me  some  water;  he  did  so,  and  I  believe  nothmg  so  re- 
freshing and  invigorating  ever  passed  my  hps 

"  I  soon  sent  Abel  away,  fearing  that  he  would  be  found 
with  me.     He  left  me,  crying  bitteriy,  while  still  deeper 
ancruish  crept  into  my  heart  at  the  thought  that  I  should 
soon  be  separated  from  this  taithful,  though  young  sharer 
of  my  afflictions.     I  felt  that  even  for  the  sake  of  my 
kindred  I  could  no  longer  endure  my  thralldom,  imbittcred 
as  it  was  by  the  hatred  of  an  evil  and  designing  woman. 
"The  eariy  dawn  found  me  exhausted  with  thought  ana 
watching,  vet  strong  in  my  resolve  to  bear  my  last  pun- 
ishment with  fortitude,  and  then  to  be  a  slave  n  Jonger. 
For  some  hours  after  daylight  broke,  I  was  left  alone 
No  one  came  near  me,  and  I  began  to  think  that  they  had 
forgotten  me,  when  Mr.  Blake,  with  two  negro  m«n,  my 


1 
1 

t 

B 
I 

J 

!( 
fi 
1( 
a 
t( 
aj 
M 
ai 
P' 
PJ 

wi 

of 
sp 

fle 
Al 
th( 
wl 
wc 

I 

sal 

bul 

he 

der 


T 


ALDEANE. 


231 


looked  in  upo\i  me 
enclifihly,  and  with 
ay,  matin  ing  plans 
ji'r<l  footsteps  oau- 
Idored,  for  I  feared 
ninions,  and  with  a 
ra  were  unfounded, 
irkness,  and  kneel- 
As  I  felt  his  wet 
t  my  resolution  to 
ears  rose  to  my  eyes, 
m  to  be  calm.     He 
ished  to  know  con- 
)ward  uie.     Nearly 
irge  under  which  I 
to  see  ni»,  but  Abel 
le  brought  me  some 
ot  eaten  since  early 
;  of  either  hunger  or 
Tie  by  both.     There 
:  begged  Abel  to  get 
elieve  nothing  so  re- 
d  my  lips. 

at  he  would  be  found 
y,  while  still  deeper 
bought  that  I  should 
though  young  sharer 
for  the  sake  of  my 
thralldom,  irabittcred 
id  designing  woman, 
ited  with  thought  and 
to  bear  my  last  pun- 
be  a  slave  n    longer, 
ike,  I  was  left  alone, 
to  think  that  they  had 
I  two  negro  m«n,  my 


most  malignant  enemies,  entered.  I  still  sat  upon  the 
,r""lt;r  1  "'/  '''"  '"""^  "'^  ^'^^"  *^«y  approached 
upon  me  the  y.lost  abuse,  hoping  to  excite  my  ire  li„t 
although  my  heart  burnt  like  coals  of  lire,  and  I  Ion<.ed 
to  urn  upon  and  loiul  him,  I  restrained  myself  a^nd 
Bufiered  him  to  lead  me  away  to  the  place  of  punishmem 
I  spoke  not  a  M'oiJ,  and  Blake  cursed  me  for  my  silence 

itked.r  '•'  ''•'  '"^'""^'  "^'^"•^  of  the 'servants 

looked  at  me  compassionately,  while  some  laughed  glee- 
fully at  my  discomfiture.  My  mother  was  there.  She 
looked  at  me-and  never  shall  I  forget  the  look  of  horror 
and  wildness  m  her  eyes.  They  led  me  on  until  we  came 
to  the  oak-tree,  under  which  I  found  you  standing  this 
afternoon.  It  was  much  smaller  then.  The  coloneT  and 
Mrs.  Arendel  were  standing  there,  the  former  pale  with 
anxie  y,  the  latter  exultant  in  her  victory.  As  we  ap- 
proached, she  came  up  to  me,  and  striking  me  with  the 
palm  of  her  hand,  exclaimed  :— 

'"We  will  teach  you  to  steal,  slave!    Tell  me  now 
where  that  ring  is  ?' 

J^lr^T^  'T'"^  more  with  indignation  than  the  force 
speech.  ■        ^  ^'''''''"  "^'^^  ^'^^  ^'■^^'  ^'^  ^'l™''   of 

flnl^'tr^  ^'"^-""^  ^""""^^  "^  *'S^*^y  that  the  cords  cut  my 
flesh.  My  wrists  were  as  white  and  delicate  as  yours, 
Aldeane,  and  those  cruel  bonds  raised  purple  welts  upon 
h  m,  seeing  which,  Colonel  Arendell  loosened  them,  and 
whispered,  'Junius  be  brave!  I  can  not  help  yoi.  I 
would  if  I  could.'  F  J'""-     1 

"As  he  turned  away,  his  breast  heaving  with  a  sL^h  I   * 
said  humbly,  '  Thank  you,  sir.'  "  ' 

"Theythoughtitwasbecausehehadloosened  my  bonds 
hrhLTr  L^'  ^vas  for  the  cheering,  sympathetic  words' 
he  had  spoken.  Mrs.  Arendell  frowned  darkly,  and  or- 
dered me  to  be  tied  up.     I  was  stripped  to  the  waist,  and 


232 


ALDEAXr: 


exclaimino; :— 

"  '  Ston '  he  shall  not  bo  whippotl '.  . 

..  M7AicU  l„™,.d  .ow„,l  him,  .Mt.j.tl.  pa»,.on^ 
.  You  lmv»  nothing  to  do  with  that  boy  1  You  gave  h,m 
"■^  !",;:;^;^ -;-  «:  eye,  intvioring;,  »;a 

^'-strike  Mr.  Blake!'  commanded  Mrs.  Arenclc^l,  and 

tho  attack     Recovering  from  the  surprise  occasioned  by 
ths  ineteced  ^nterfcrenee,  he  raised  the  heavy  whvp 
^^lh  Shi  was  attempting  to  wrest  from  hxm,  and  dea 
which  sue  w a,  i      ,  ^     ^  ,i  endeavored  to  pull 

her  a  furious  blow,     i         ^iicu^  uinke 

bmtalv,then  dragged  her  out  of  the  way,  whUe  1  fm- 
whom  she  had  dared  so  much,  was  bound  hand  ad  foot, 
Totally  unable  to  defend  her.  1  ^^.-^^j; J^^^J^'^^; 
votedly,  and  at  this  sight  my  passion  t""'"^ ^^J^^ 
reason  From  very  excess  of  rage,  unable  to  speak  l 
foamed  at  the  mouth,  in  my  heart  sweanng  vengeance 
aTpouring  upon  both  mistress  and  overseer  and  the 
cota  dlv  nfaste'r  also,  the  most  fearful  imprecations 

-Uichard,  continue!'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Arendell, '  \ ou 
will  have  no  interruption  this  time,  I  presume! 

-I  suess  not!'  he  laughed,  and  turning  toward  me 
appli  d  ^  e  whip  ferociously.  I  felt  the  blood  trickling 
Xw"y  dowu  my  back.    I  heard  the  whiz  of  the  lash  as 


ALDEANE. 


233 


[■d  liis  lieavy  whip, 
1  stepped  forward 


fthitc  with  passion, 
y !     You  gave  him 

>9  imploringly  and 
ithstand  that  look, 
ne  you !     Indeed,  I 

Mrs.  Arendell,  and 
rs.  Just  as  he  was 
er's  arm  was  seized 
,  sprang  upon  him 
f  and  suddenness  of 
rprisc  occasioned  by 
sed  the  heavy  whip, 
from  him,  and  dealt 

endeavored  to  pull 
of  the  whip,  Blake 

lead,  and  the  blow 

and  he  kicked  her 
the  way,  while  I,  for 
jound  hand  and  foot, 
oved  my  mother  de- 
sion  triumphed  over 
e,  unable  to  speak,  I 

swearing  vengeance, 
md  overseer,  and  the 
fful  imprecations. 

Mrs.  Arendell, '  You 
,  I  presume  1' 
d  turning  toward  me 
3lt  the  blood  trickling 
he  whiz  of  the  lash  as 


it  cleft  tlie  air ;  but  above  all,  I  remembered  the  low 
moan  my  mother  had  uttered  as  she  sank  beneath  the 
bloAV  of  my  ])ersecutor.  It  rang  in  my  ears,  nerving  me 
to  bear  tliat,  under  which,  else,  I  certainly  should  have 
sunk.  A  shrill  cry,  that  I  could  not  repress,  occasionally 
escaped  me;  and  when  tl»e  punishment  ceased, from  sheer 
exhaustion,  from  no  will  of  my  own,  I  was  silent. 

"Mrs.  Arendell  laid  lier  hand  upon  my  bare  shoulder, 
and  my  flesh  shrank  from  her  touch.  Every  muscle 
contracted,  so  deep  was  the  loatliing  that  my  whole  being 
bore  towar.l  her.  'Wo  liave  taught  him  submission,  I 
think,  Mr.  Blake,'  slie  said  with  a  fiendish  smile,  and  a 
viperish  glitter  in  lier  cruel  eyes. 

"  The  overseer  smiled  savagely.  Wiping  the  perspira- 
tion from  liis  brow,  lie  raiseil  the  whip  as  if  to  strike 
again,  but  a  gleam  of  pity  must  have  entered  his  heart, 
for  the  blow  fell  upon  the  empty  air,  and  he  commenced 
loosing  me. 

^  "My  mother  was  again  conscious,  and  slowly,  as  if 
just  awakened  Aom  a  painful  dream,  sbe  rose  from  the 
ground  and  came  toward  me.  The  cold  stony  look 
crept  into  her  eyes,  and  settled  upon  her  face,  that  I  had 
seen  there  the  night  my  father  brought  his  bride  home. 

I'  She  did  not  scream  or  cry,  when  she  saw  the  blood 
dripping  from  my  wounds.  A  shudder  ran  through  my 
frame ;  sick  at  heart,  I  leaned  against  lier  She  placed 
my  shirt  over  my  shoulders,  and  was  about  to  lead  me 
away,  when  Mrs.  Arendell  exclaimed  peremptorily : — 
'"Samira,  let  the  boy  alone!  we  will  manage  him.' 
"  My  mother  did  not  reply,  but  lifted  me  in  her  arms, 
her  strengtli  seemed  renewed,  but  mine  was  entirely  gone, 
and  carried  me  away.  Mrs.  Arendell  called  upon  Blake 
to  prevent  her,  but  he  evidently  considered  it  u  danger- 
ous task  to  confront  that  calm,  yet  deeply  infuriated 
woman.  So  she  carried  ie  away  to  the  negro  quarters, 
and  as  I  was  laid  upon  a  bed,  a  sharp,  excruciatiuir  pai:i. 


234 


ALDEANE. 


H 


from  ray  lacerated  flosh,  convulse.l  my  frame,  and  over- 
come by  my  Buffcrinj,  mi.ul  as  well  a«  body  .uccnmbea 
under  this  weiixbt  of  ex(iuisite  ajjony,  and  I  famtecl,  to 
awaken  with  ail  the  horrors  of  delirium  upon  mo. 

"When  I  a<rain  became  conscious  it  was  nii^'ht,  a  Si>li- 
tary  candle  flickered  through  the  gloom  of  the  a,.artment. 
My  mother  was  bending  over  me,  the  look  ot  cold  de- 
spair still  resting  upon  her;  and  my  master  stood  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed.  His  arms  were  crossed  over  Ins  breast, 
and  his  head  was  bent  low.  A  sorrowful  man  did  he 
look,  as  he  gazed  upon  me.  ,  •„  j 

" 'They  have  killed  him,  Mass'r  John !  they  have  killed 
him ''  were  the  first  words  I  heard. 

"A  dim  recollection  of  all  that  had  passed  swept  over 
me  Reaching  forth  my  hand  I  touched  my  mothers 
that  lay  upon  the  bed.  She  caught  it  with  an  exclama- 
tion of  joy,  and  kissed  me.  Colonel  Arende  1  came  to 
the  bedside  and  took  my  hand.     With  a  shudder,  I  with- 

'""^What!  do  you  hate  me,  Junius?'  he  asked.  'You 
know  that  I  could  not  prevent  this.'  ,.  ,     „, 

« 'I  know  that  you  are  not  master  here,  I  replied,  sar- 
castically, '  but  you  should  be.  I  am  your  own  brother  s 
child !  yet  you  stood  by  and  saw  them  try  to  murder  me. 
Yes!  I  do  hate  you!  and  my  revenge  shal  be  terrible 

"  I  .vas  becoming  fearfully  excited.  Colonel  Arendell 
stood  astounded  at  my  words.  My  mother  begged  him 
to  go  away,  and  he  complied,  leaving  me  to  e^«lt  over 
what  should  be,  while  he  could  but  grieve  over  what  had 

^''"'l  received  some  water  from  my  mother's  hand,  then 
turned,  and  fell  into  a  long  and  troubled  sleep,  from 
which  I  awoke  in  a  violent  fever,  suffermg  excessively 
from  my  wounds.  My  faithful  watcher  was  still  beside 
me,  striving  to  alK^viate  my  pain.  I  lay  in  bed  a  week, 
as  much  overcome  by  mental  as  bodily  suflfermg. 


r 

t( 
■w 
ir 
k 

si 
tl 
ul 

"1 
lo 

di 
re< 


pa 
ke 

sa^ 

Sh 

Ufc 

aiu 
< 


»y  frame,  and  over- 
ifl  body,  puccumbcd 
y,  and  I  fiiinteil,  to 
im  upon  mo. 
it  WHS  nii^lit,  a  hoH- 
»m  of  tlie  ai)!vrtmont. 
lie  look  of  cold  de- 
master  stood  at  the 
ssed  over  hi«  breast, 
rrowful  man  did  he 

,hn !  they  have  killed 

id  passed  swept  over 
juched  my  mother's 
t  it  with  an  exclama- 
cl  Arendell  came  to 
ith  a  shudder,  I  witli- 

18?'  he  asked.    'You 

■r  here,'  I  replied,  sar- 
m  your  own  brother's 
em  try  to  murder  me. 
nge  shall  be  terrible  !' 
;d.  Colonel  Arendell 
■f  mother  begged  him 
ing  me  to  exult  over 
grieve  over  what  had 

If  mother's  hand,  then 
troubled  sleep,  from 

,  sufferuig  excessively 

itcher  was  still  beside 
I  lay  in  bed  a  week, 

)dily  Buflfering. 


ALDEANE. 


23j 


'During  all  that  time  I  thought  only  of  escape  and 
revenge,  but  formed  no  plans  to  ortbct  either.  I  wa«  as  yet 
too  weak  for  connected  thought.  As  soon,  however,  as  I 
was  able  to  leave  my  bed,  my  mind  regained  all  its  for- 
mer strength,  and  I  conceived  and  matured  the  i)lan  that 
led  to  my  escape  from  bondage, 

"My  mistress  had  found  her  ring  in  a  desk,  in  which 
she  had  carelessly  placed  it;  so  I  was  free  from  the  taint 
that  had  rested  upon  my  character.  I  saw  her  once  only 
alter  the  day  upon  which  I  was  punished.  The  rin.'  was 
upon  her  hand.  She  drew  it  oft"  when  she  saw  me  •  and 
lookmg  at  me  contemptuously,  said  :— 

"  '  So  you  didn't  steal  this  !  It  is  well  for  you  that  you 
did  not,  or  you  should  have  another  whiiiping— you  are 
recovered  enough  now !' 

''  I  did  not  reply,  but  merely  looked  at  her. 
" '  Ah  !  what   dreadful   eyes !'   she  exclaimed,   full  of 
passion  and  fire !     'Slave,  you  shall  be  sold.     I  will  not 
keep  you  to  haunt  me  with  your  glances.' 

"  She  M-ent  into  the  house  and  I  never  saw  her  a^-ain 
save  in  my  dreams.  But  ah  !  she  has  haunted  me  then  J 
She  has  walked  like  a  specter  through  every  vision  of  my 
life  keeping  alive  my  hatred,  and  inciting  my  deepest 
and  deadliest  revenge. 
"And  this  is  the  first  part  of  my  life." 


CIIAPTEll     XXVI. 

TTIK   CI.OHK    OV  TllK   FATEKUI,    KKCOBD. 

Aftfu  these  wonlH,  there  was  a  long  blank  in  Uay- 

the  tew  pa-en  which  still  remained,  and  ^^hlch  sla  pe 
•usod  with  ea.n.r.  attention.     This  portion  began  as  ab- 
ruitVan  the  iirst  had  done,  and  the  tirst  lines  contamed 
simply  the  words:— 

•*  "  aJS:  '.ai,l  Won.,  I  .,"My  matured  a  pla,.  for 

!  ■  •  effoct     Z,  aad  having  rovoaW  it  to  „.y  .nothor  ob- 

fiined  Voui  her  all  the  sympathy,  and  what,  as  a  bo) , 
l^lu  to  iri-  more  impoAant,  all  the  aid  she  could  m  her 
circumstances  possibly  render  me. 

.:^cr:irx'=':ts:x3d.o 
rj'i.  „..  -v-r^^rttifisrz 

•would  cause  it  to  be  aone  a^ai..  <i;«nnsition 

.-ould  make  her  passionate  temper  J»^  ;^«/^;pX^^^^ 
nnWic  As  they  owned  no  hounds,  I  had  no  appiencn 
Hi^  of  bdng  hunted  down  by  them,  and  theretore  eon- 
!  .  Uo.l  a  sale  thou-h  laborious  escape.  My  mothei 
S^tl^t^ill^'luld  surely  ibllow,  but  ..  arg^ents 
could  induce  her  to  accompany  "-•     ^^^^^^^^^  "t  ami 


t 

t 

V 

i 
w 

h 

n 
w 
a 
si 
It 
w 
di 

C( 

n< 
ti 
A 
() 

CO 

an 
di 
al 
p! 

CO 
Btl 
pll 


ALDKA  XK. 


237 


VI. 

L   RECOKD, 

long  blank  in  Ilay- 
uld  readily  iniasino 
ought  bolbre  adding 
,  and  which  she  pe- 
ortion  began  as  ab- 
tii-Ht  lines  contained 

matured  a  plan  for 
it  to  my  mother,  ob- 
nd  what,  as  a  boy,  1 
•  aid  she  could  in  her 

e  her  to  go  with  me, 
rsuit,  and  would  not 
Luess.    For  myself  I 
»lonel  Arendell  would 
isod  that  my  mistress 
it   his  orders,  as  that 
r  and  vile  disposition 
s,  I  had  no  apprehen- 
em,  and  therefore  con- 
s  escape.     My  mother 
ow,  but  no  arguments 
e.     One  dark  night  I 
I  Abel,  good-bye !  and 
Vbel  cried  so  piteously, 


that  I  turned  back,  and  oould  scarcely  make  up  my  mind 
to  leave  him;  but,  thrusting  a  mucli-'treasund  live  cent 
piece  into  my  hand,  he  pushed  me  away,  saying :  M;()! 
go!  hut  come  back  some  day  for  littK-  Abel !' 

" '  I  will !  I  will,  indeed  !'  l"  cried,  an.l  with  another  kiss 
to  all,  I  \vi\  them,  an.l  (led  through  the  .larkness  of  the 
night,  listening  t.)  the  rushing  of  th.-  wind  through  the 
trees,  and  to  each  sound  of  insect  life,  vainly  striving  to 
hush  the  voices  in  my  heart  that  urged  me  "to  turn  back 
to  my  loved  ones,  and  to  slavery. 

"That  word  impelled  me  ..nwird,  and  ere  the  daylight 
(•ame,  I  was  in  the  woods,  fartl'.er  from  Arendell  House 
than  [  had  ever  been  before.  I  rein.iinc.l  there  hidden 
under  a  clump  of  hazel  bushes,  dose  by  the  side  ot"  a 
brook,  satisfying  my  hunger  with  the  f.'.o,!  with  which 
mother  had  scantily  supplied  nu>,  and  slaking  my  thirst 
with  the  water  that  flowed  before  me.  .\t  iiii;htfall  I 
again  continued  my  journey,  and  at  daybreak  l-iinie  in 
sight  of  what  seemed  t(»  me  then   a  very  large  town. 

It  was  K ;  not  a  very  large  place,  you  kufiw.     Not 

wishing  to  be  seen,  I  remained  in  the  <Mitskirts,  at  some 
.listance  from  the  hous.'s.  Although  I  was  quite  fair,  and 
could  easily  have  passed  for  a  white,  the  idea  of  doing  so 
never  once  occurred  to  me,  and  I  felt  tlie  givatest  trepida- 
tion if  I  chanced  to  meet  any  one,  as  I  did  once  or  twice. 
At  the  time  of  my  escape  it  was  the  fall  of  the  year— in 
October,  sixteen  years  ago.  Tlie  season  was  very  rainy, 
consequently  traveling    on   foot  was   rloubly  liazardous 

and  fatiguing,     I  remained  in  the  vi.nnity  of'll until 

dusk,  then  continued  my  flight.  JMy  supply  of  food  had 
already  become  very  small,  and  I  knew  not  how  to  re- 
plenish it.  Tlie  corn  and  fruit  were  gathered,  so  that  I 
could  not  even  get  them  to  assist  me,  and  I  much  feared 
starvation,  either  total  or  partial,  before  I  should  reach  a 
place  of  safety. 

"  Happily,  I  know  considerable  of  geogr.nphy,  and  deter- 


^^^' 


238 


ALDRA.yE. 


nunod  to  «ook«omc  «oft-port.  T  fir«t  thought  of  Vwbcrn 
-hut  roincmln.n.a  that  nnmo  of  Coloiu'l  Arena.-ll  h  rolft- 
tio„H,  whom  I  know,  roHuUa  tlu-ro,  ami  if  they  saw  mo  I 
Hhould  prohahly  l»o  ror. ,.,nn/.od.  So  I  tnrno.l  m  anothor 
airoction,  Hottinj,'  my  Wxro  in  tho  dirootion  ot  Nor  oik 

"  I  know  that  I  must  pasH  through  a  dense  puu-  ««>''^"«J— 
and  to  my  preat  deliK'ht,  on  the  morning  of  the  hrth  day 
of  my  journey,  I  found  myself  there.     On  the  day  belo  o 
,  had^knoeked  d..wn  a  hinl  and  satisfied  myselt  wUh  U 
half-cooked  eareass,  for  I  dared  not  make  a  lar^o   .re  h  st 
the  Bmoko  should  rise  above  the  tree-to,,s,  and  d.selose  my 
hi.lin-,.laeo.      Hut  there  seemed  to  be  no  birds,  or  small 
animals  in  the  piny  wo..ds-they  had  , one  ^^^  '-J'^^;; 
therefore,  thou.^h  I  searehe.l  diligenay,!  ^«f  \<">'\"«;^^ 
i„.  .vith  whieh  to  appease  my  bun.'or.     My  bread      a 
exhausted,  and  there  seemed  every  pro.peet  ot  "tY^^l^; 
hefore  me.     I  still  traveled  by  night,  lor  I  feared  that  I 
might  be  discovered  by  s..me  of  the  men  who  lived  a 
oUtary  life,  making  turpentine.     I  was  lar  t'-"  J'  «"    ; 
tions,  where  I  might    have   bogged  a  .'""[f  *"!"       ; 
negroes,  and  there  seemed  nothing  obtainable  at  the  ft  w 
rude  eai.ins  I  passed,  even  if  I  had  dared  to  make  known 

my  wants  to  the  inmates.  „  u„^   t 

»  Mv  courage  was  nearly  exhausted  ;  two  days  had  I 
boon  \n  tho  woods  and  had  eaten  nothing.  I  had  been 
walkin-  all  night,  and  .just  at  daybreak  came  m  sight  ot  a 
rmall  erd/m.  A  woman  was  within  busily  engaged  m  get- 
ting breakfast.  A  tall,  dirty-looking  man,  stocMl  in  the 
doorway,  and  a  squalid  chiUl  was  erymg  on  the  floor. 

" -Tis  the  last  meal  in  the  house,  John.  We've  scarce 
enough  to  make  a  pone  now!'  I  heard  the  woman  say 

"'I  can't  help  it!  How  can  I  get  more?  I  must  tell 
thnber  to-duy.     I  ought  to  have  been  at  work  before 

"''Yes-  if  there's  any  walkin'  to  do  you  ha'  plenty  to 
do!'    replied  the  woman    in  a  surly  tone  'but  nary 


A  LDHAXE. 


999 


ought  of  Ncwbcm 
lu'i  ArpntU'U's  relft- 
I  if  they  saw  mo  I 

tnrnol  in  another 
lion  of  Xorft)lk. 
(lonso  jiiiu'  forost — 
inf?  of  the  firth  day 

On  the  day  before 
lied  my»eU"  with  its 
ake  a  hirjre  fire  h'St 
:>l»s,  and  diHoloHo  my 
le  no  birds,  or  »mall 
fone  farther  noutli — 
V,  I  coidd  find  noth- 
er.     My  bread  was 
•ospect  of  Htarvation 
,  for  I  fi-ared  that  I 
e  men  who  lived  a 
s-as  lar  from  ])lanta- 

a  morsel  from  thi^ 
btainable  at  the  few 
and  to  make  known 

d;  two  days  had  1 
othing.  I  iiiid  been 
'uk  came  in  sight  of  a 
msily  engaged  in  get- 
ig  man,  stood  in  the 
ving  on  the  floor, 
John,  We've  scarce 
rd  the  woman  say, 
.'t  more?  I  must  fell 
been  at  work  before 

do  you  ha'  plenty  to 
irly  tone  'but  nary 


.an,   H    um  e  se.     Nary  hit  of  grain  should  ,ve  l.nvo  ,o 
.■at,  .    I  was  hko  you,  you  tritlin'  „o-areou„t  critter ' 

T'l'ljjl.ut  ga^e  a   I..Mg.  !,.„„   (.....nd   that  ..assed  |,i,„   ,, 

''..undn.g  kK-k,  which  ..|i..it..d  a  fivsh  scnL  from    ho 

.  .       and  a  torrent  of  n,,roof  and  al.us.-  from  thorman 

At   ast  thoy  sat  .lown  to  breakfast,  and  as  the  sun  hZ^u 

'y  -o.  .tseir,  though  a  veil  of  n.ist,  for  the  s    L . ,  Tx 

'■'led  .  .-onstant  vapor,  ahnost  impervious  to  its  brig  test 

;vH,     he   man   throw   hi,    ,,    ..er   his    should..,        d 

talked  away.      I  «..h  al.ou.  to  outer  the  cabin,  a„.    E 

'-I  when  I  thought  that   the  woman  and  c  .ild  wero 

l--n-nn,.  to  loav..  it,     I  .-as  right  in  ,„y  oo„i.otu,v. 

n,e  wo,„an  pulled  the  old  sun-bonnet  she  wore  still 
Author  over  her  face,  throw  a  sa.-k  over  one  arm  Z 
tak.ng  the  ch.id  on  the  other,  shut  the  door  of  the^.b," 
-"J  to  my  mfiuite  delight  trudg.  '  away.  She  passed  so' 
'loso  to  me,  that  I  coul.l  have  .ouol,;.!  her  1  „t  IJoW 
".y  breath  lest  she  should  hoar  it,  and  watched  her  nS 
she  was  lost  to  sig!)t, 

"  Ah  soon  as  I  was  certain  that  she  was  quite  gone  I  rin 
-,1,'oHy  to  the  cabin,  pushed  ojx^n  the  door  u.kI  "^o^ 

M-as  devcd  of  every  con^fort,  and  contained  on  y"; 

no  t  necessary  furniture,  and  that  of  the  ru.lest  de.rrip! 

t.on      I  not.ced  nothmg  of  this  when  I  fn^t  went  in   but 

«ent  nnmcKbatdy  t.>  a  s.nall  cupboard,  that  stood  i,',  t^ 

•on,er.     There  was  a  little  corn   bread  an.l  a  slic"     f' 

.aeon  upon  the  shelf.      I  eagerly  ate  a  part,  and  tl;ru  t 

-  rest  mto  my  pocket,      I  was  very  wit  a.id  col," 

""<-ovenng  the  fire  found  a  bed  of  glowing  coals  '  "h 

t.ie  loom    they  soon  produced  a  chocTful   blaze      I  gat 

sZ"  .?"'.'*  '°.T'"''"  ""^'  '^'y  '"y«^l^'  «"'^  had  partly 

ucceeded,  when  I  hoard  the  sound  of  loud  whistling  •  I 

raised  my  head,  and  saw  the  master  of  the  house,  hi^  ax 

on  lu6  shoulder,  leisurely  approaching.     My  heari  stood 


240 


ALDEANE. 


.till  ^vith  terror.     For  a  moment  I  could  neither  think  .r 

o..c-iorbut  without  the  power  to  rise  or  move.  Soon 
I  Tnto  a  deep  sleep,  and  did  not  wake  untd  ^ught. 
Ivsshiverin-with  cold,  and  the  nuMuus  dew,  that  fell 
hiv  Iv  My  first  in.pulse  was  to  continue  my  slumber, 
tut  a  moment's  thought  convinced  me  that  too  much  d.n- 
Xr  I  "nld  it ;  and  I  feared  that  too  much  tune  had  bc.u 
foJt  a  "ady  looked  up  at  the  sky,  it  was  dear  and  bc- 
'i  ti  h  stars  that  caft  a  welcome  light  through 

'^         r       T  ,;,.«,!   iit  ho  onp'^site  to  tliai  iioui 

,olf  nn  1  lart^e  public  road.     1  Kepi  on  ii  i"' 

t,elt  on  a  i.ir„t  !»»        ,      ,    x  „„.„  „  waf^on  at  some  dis- 

Xet«     'L\  ron%-  o„  .lowly;  it  contained  a 
:.t„a  woman,    ^vLn  they  eame  opposite  J>«  -' 
u       „„  .  « TTow  far  arc  we  from  Portsipouth  i" 

'^:trr.i,iX.i;"*  °'' ''>»'-•">••' r '"^"'^ 

fonvar.1  to  bear  the  T:^:^^^^  „.„rf.  can 
,  ""f^  *™„r«  he  rin„*rMy  heart  .welled  with 

-?!SS^rx£eJr.si 

r™tt  tt  'oXand  .LiW-ight  of  the  wagon. 
'''tltf4ZSfeS.  the  country  heean,c,„o. 
„pe,fa,Td  So  on,ide,-ahlc  trepidation  I  pa»ed  throngh 


ALDEANE. 


coiilfl  neither  think  or 
the  door,  opposite  that 
It,  and  ran  throngh  the 
Plied  deer,  for  over  an 
•suit,  translating  every 
mtil  at  hvst  I  stumbled 
le  gro\ind,  still  taintly 
to  rise  or  move.  Soon 
ot  wake  until  night.     I 

no\iuu8  dew,  that  fell 
o  continue  my  slumber, 
rl  me  that  too  much  dan- 
too  much  time  had  been 
sky,  it  was  clear  and  bo- 
welcome  light  through 
ilowly  walked  on,  taking 

opposite  to  that  from 
ary   and   at   first  eovdd 
wn  became  more  supple, 
Lt   dawn    I  found    my- 
vcpt  on  it  for  about  two 
\v  a  wagon  at  some  dis- 
he  woods,  and  hid  behind 
ju  slowly,  it  contained  a 
ime  opposite  me,  she  said 
om  Portsipouth  ?' 
discovery,  1  bent  eagerly 
Inly  five  miles  V 
amouth!    No  words  can 
My  heart  swelled  with 
sre  shouted,  had  I  not  rc- 
ipardy.     I  hurried  on,  still 
ining  sight  of  the  wagon, 

5  the  country  became  more 
:pidation  I  passed  through 


241 


the  suburbs,  iiunking  that  every  person  was  lookin-.  a' 
and  woukl  recognize  me.     I  passed  on  unmolested,  still 
lo  owmg  the  wagon,  that  I  had  taken  for  my  guide     It 
rolled  slowly  on,  and  at  last  turned  into  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal streets,  and  stopped  before  a  large  house,  which  I 
afterward  discovered  to  be  the  market.      It  was  now 
about  seven  o'clock,  one  of  the  busiest  hours  of  the  day 
m  that  section  of  the  city.     I  was  struck  with  wonder 
at  the  crowd  of  people,  the  many  strange  things  I  saw 
and  the  confusion   that   everywhere   prevailed;    and   I 
trembled  beneath  the  many  curious  glances  thrown  upon 
me.     1  do  not  wonder  now  that  I  attracted  the  attention 
of   many;  my  clothes  were  tattered,  my  face  thin  and 
haggard,  and  my  whole  appearance  extremely  wret<-hed 
J^ or  sometime  I  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  market^ 
place,  alraid  to  speak  or  move;  soon,  however,  the  crav- 
ings of  hunger  induced  me  to  leave  ray  j.iace  of  partial 
concealment;  and  I  went  to  a  neighboring  stand,  and 
bought  a  meat  pie;  then  returned  and  ate  it  eagerly 

"I  was  jostled  roughly  about  by  the  men  that 'were 
moving  i-apidly  around   me;    and   I   became  conscious 
that  I  could  not  stand  much  longer,  so  exhau.-.ted  was  I 
with   the  long   M-alk  I   had   taken  the  previous  night 
together  with  the  exposure  I  had  endured.     So,  with  \ 
tamt  heart  I  left  the  market,  and  wandered  throucrh  the 
streets,  turning  from  one  to  another,  seeking  refuge  that 
1  might  take  the  rest  I  so  gfeatly  required.     I  walked  a 
long  distance,  and  at  last  came  to  the  beach.    There  were 
but  few  houses  in  sight,  and  a  few  boats  fastened  to  the 
shore,  and  drifting  with  the  tide,  showed  plainly  that  it 
was  not  much  frequented.     An  old  negro  man  was  the 
only  person  near.     He  was  opening  oysters  with  great 
dexterity,  and  I  watched  him  for  a  few  minutes,  with 
'curiosity  and  admiration.      He  worked  busily  and  for 
some  tune  did  not  notice  me.      Some  movement  of  mine 
among  the  shells,  that  were  scattered  around,  at  last 
11 


2i2 


ALDEANE. 


atti-actod  his  attention.  He  raised  his  old  cap  from  hiH 
lK.xd,  and  pushed  it  back,  disclosing  a  hne  of  white  wool 
above  his  wrinkled  forehead,  and  regarded  me  with  a 
stare  of  surprise,  and  the  single  exclamation,     Weill  1 

"I  was  frightened,  and  about  to  run  from  the  place 
V.  hen  I  remembered  that  it  was  not  likely  that  he  had 
ever  seen  me  before,  so  I  kept  my  ground  returnmg  his 
.r:»ze  and  attempting  to  smile  in  a  cheerful  manner.  He 
sc-c-med  to  appreciate  the  effort,  and  to  regard  it  as  an  m- 
vitation  to  speak,  for  without  removing  his  eyes  from  my 
face  he  inquired : — 

"  '  ^Vllar  is  ye  from  ?'  ^r    .i,  r^ 

«' I  hesitated  a  moment,  then  said,  'From  North  Caro- 
lina,— eastern  part.'  „    r      i 
"'Neber  been  dar,'  said  he,  shaking  his  woolly  head, 
and  continuing  his  work.    I  was  about  to  go  away,  when 
he  looked  at  me  searchingly,  saying  :— 
'"  You's  a  white  boy,  I 'spose  ?' 

"The  blood  rushed  over  my  face.  I  had  not  before 
thought  of  attempting  to  pass  for  white:  now,  I  deter- 
mined to  do  so,  and  steadily  answered,  'Yes ;  addmg 
lau-hing, '  what  made  you  ask,  uncle  ?  Do  I  look  like  a 
ni.r"er?'  turning  my  face  toward  him  a  little  proudly, 
for 'l  knew  I  was  white,  and  every  one  said  handsome, 
though  I  appeared  at  slight  advantage  then. 

"The  old  man  seemed  satisfied,  and  said:  JJont  be 
'fended,  dere's  good  niggers  as  well  as  white  folks,  but  I 
didn't  know  but  you  might  be  one  ob  dese  pesky  white 

"*"^No!   no!'  I  answered  quickly,  my  cheeks  burning 

with  shame, 

" '  What  did  you  leave  home  for,  eh  ?' 

"I  thoutrht  a  moment,  then  answered:  'My  uncle 
treated  rae°  badly,  and  though  I  am  all  alone  in  the 
world,  I  won't  be  put  down.' 


mi 


an 


rol 


aiic 

it 

nwc, 
dor 

any 

« 

(I 
(( 

A1I( 

(( 
t< 

ingl 

a  bii 

got 
(( I 

quic 

"] 

(( < 

any 
he  w 

conti 
fiimil 
numi 


his  old  cap  from  hw 
a  line  of  white  wool 
•?garded  me  with  a 
jiamation,  'Well!  I 

run  from  the  place, 
t,  likely  that  he  had 
;round,  returning  his 
leerful  manner.  He 
to  regard  it  as  an  in- 
ing  his  eyes  from  my 

'From  North  Caro- 
ling his  woolly  head, 
out  to  go  away,  when 


e.  I  had  not  before 
white:  now,  I  deter- 
jTcred, 'Yes;'  adding 
lie  ?  Do  I  look  like  a 
him  a  little  proudly, 
f  one  said  handsome, 
age  then. 

and  said:  'Don't  be 
1  as  white  folks,  but  I 
;  ob  dcse  pesky  white 

y,  my  cheeks  burning 

,  eh?' 

inswered:   'My  uncle 
am  all  alone  in  the 


ALDEANE. 


243 


(( ( 


'Dat's  right,  honey!  dat's  right!'  replied  the  old 
man  approvingly,     « And  is  de  man  rich  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  he  owns  a  groat  many  slaves.' 

" 'And  more's  dc  pity,  chile !  But  ain't  you  rich  too?' 
and  he  looked  at  me  quizzically. 

lu^i^..^''!''^'  '^''''  ^  '•'^^"'•n^^'J.'buthis  own  brother 
robbed  hm  heirs  of  all.' 

"'  You  look  pretty  rough,  anyhow!'  was  his  comment. 
I  guess  you  would  too,  if  you  had  walked  six  nights 
and  hidden  m  the  woods  as  many  days !'  I  replied. 

" '  What?'  cried  the  old  man,  throwing  down  his  knife, 
aiirl  looking  at  me  in  astonishment.  'Well,  if  you've 
done  dat  ar,  your  uncle  must  have  treated  you  worse'n 
anybody  km  b'lieve !     What's  yer  name  ?' 

"'Junius.' 

"  'Junius !  well,  hain't  ye  got  no  other  name  ?' 

I  thought  a  moment,  then  answered,  '  Allen-Junius 

Allen. 

" '  And  your  folks  is  rich  ?' 

Very,'  I  returned,  somewhat  impatiently 

•  "i"^'!''".''!'  ''''"'^®  J'''"  ''  *''°''  ^»'d  the  old  man,  mus- 
ingly ;  and  been  'posed  upon  by  yer  uncle.  He  must  be 
a  b.g  rascal,  sartain !  What  are  ye  'gwine  to  do  here  ? 
got  any  idee  ?' 

" '  Oh !  I  shan't  stay  here  I  I  shall  go  North  !'  I  replied 
quickly.  '^ 

'"What  'gwine  dere  for?  got  folks  dar?' 

"I  hesitated  a  moment,  then  answered— « Yes ' 

" '  Uich,  maybe  ?' 

" '  Oh !  yes.  I  believe  some  of  them  will  help  me !  At 
any  rate  I  shall  find  a  refuge  from  my  uncle.  I'm  afraid 
he  will  catch  me  if  I  stay  here !' 

"  The  old  man's  respect  for  me  seeraad  to  increase  as  I 
continued,  especially  when  he  was  assured  that  my 
fami  y  wore  not  'poor  white  trash,'  but  owned  a  ]ar4 
number  of  slaves.  ° 


a<u 


ALDEANE. 


T 


-Well!  young  iiuWr!'  he  s.i.l  at  l-"^^t|''  '  ^'""^  J;!^;; 

Sat  l.i.  «»'■"'.  introduc.,1  mo  .0  ^yf'-^,  S, 

the  blood  oozed  from  many  a  gapmg  crack,  and  I  could 
scarcely  boar  the  acntc  pain  they  gave  me 

olysmm  to  inc.    T^= J™'''  ^^^  „„„-i„„  „eal.    Some 

AvTnt  Betsy  came  to  my  bedside. 

" '  Is  you  'wake  honey  ?'  she  whispered. 
-     « '  Yes,'  I  replied,  turning  toward  he.-  weanly. 
I'm  so  tired.' 

Mosed  mv  eyes.  (Aunt  Betsy  was  sitting  by  the  tire 
knSfn<^^   -Se  roVm  was  in  perfect  order,  and  wore  a 
ASiTand  pleasant  aspect.     My  clothes  were  upon 
^!ha  r  at  the  Xlo  of  the  bed,  in  a  much  more  presentable 


•But 


I 


ALDEANE. 


I  at  lei\)Ttli,  '  I'm  jost 
m  iVoo,  an«l  if  y<>vi  will 
mighty  glad  to  share 

?d,  and  went  home  with 
:l  that  I  could  scarcely 
3  much,  and  on  our 
to  his  wife,  as'Youn-j; 
ray  cl'ar  from  North 
n  uncle  who's  cheated 
ing  else.' 

took  off  mj   .id  shoes; 
ling  crack,  and  I  could 
gave  me. 

tied.  Uncle  Dick,  as  1»« 
warm  water,  andf  Aunt 
Before  she  had  finished, 
found  myself  in  a  com- 
?d  state,  seemed  a  pcrtcct 
ere  lighted,  and  my  cn- 
r  evening  meal.  Some 
cted  their  attention,  and 


srhispered. 

yard  hei-  wearily. 


•But 


presently  returned  with  a 
me  hot  food.  To  me  it 
after  easing  and  drinking 

n. 

eavens,  when  I  again  un- 

was  sitting  by  the  fire, 
»erfect  order,  and  wore  a 
My  clothes  were  upon  a 

a  much  more  presentable 


245 

I  arose  and 


condition  than  wlien  I  had  doffed  them 
dressed  myself,  feeling  still  very  weary. 

"  Aunt  JJetsy  was  very  in(,uisitive,  and  asked  numer- 
ous questions,  to  all  of  which  I  replied  as  truthfullv  as 
possible  8t.ll,  h,.wever,  keeping  to  the  tale  I  had  'told 
J  ick.  Her  indignation  knew  no  bo.inds  at  my  account 
ol  my  uncles  treatment,  though  I  did  not  represent  as 
nearly  as  bad  as  it  really  was,  fur  I  was  loo  fearful  of 
raising  her  suspicions.  ) 

"At  noon  Uncle  Didi  returned.     lie  seemed  pleased  to 
nnd  me  up  and  well. 

"^'  'Spected  you'd  be  sick,'  was  his  first  remai«k.  Then 
as  .i.'.  was  eating  dinner,  he  urged  me  to  tell  my  story 
again;  and  thougli  I  was  weary  of  n-peating  what  was 
.>nly  partly  true,  I  did  so,  and  M'hen  I  concluded,  ho 
asked : —  ' 

" '  Whar  do  ye  want  to  go  to  ?' 

"'New  York,'  I  answered  quiekly.  I  had  heard  my 
father  speak  of  that  j.lace,  and  a  wild  hope  that  I  mieht 
iiiid  him  there,  entered  my  mind. 

'"New   York!'     repeated    Uncle    Dick,    musingly. 
Haven  t  got  much  money,  I  s'pose  ?' 
"I  took   a  little   leathern   bag  from  my  bosom,  and 
spread   its   contents   upon  the  table   before   me      Two 
qnarteys  of  a  dollar,  a  dime,  three  cents,  and  the  half 
<lime  Abel  had  given  me,  were  all  that  I  possessed. 
'"Can't  pay  tor  a  passage,  dat's  sartin,'  was  his  remark. 
But    I    can    work!     I    ean    work,'  I    interrupted 
eagerly.  * 

"  Uncl«  Dick  laughed.  'Whar's  de  strength  to  come 
from?  he  asked;  ' besides,  young  gennelmen,  as  owns 
slaves,  don't  often  work  much.' 

"  'I  will  do  any  thing  to  get  to  New  York,'  I  returned ; 
but  1  felt  as  I  spoke,  that  ray  strength,  if  taxed  severely 
would  soon  give  way.  ' 

"'Stay  in  de  house  till  I  come  back,'  was  Uncle  Dick's 


246 


ALDEANE. 


parting  injunction.  When  he  returned  in  the  evening, 
he  was  aceompiinied  by  a  tall,  n.^e-looking  white  man 

"'This  is  Jack  Fiel.1,'  he  said.  I've  been  telliii  him 
'bout  you;  he's  a  sailor,  and  often  goes  to  New  York- 
perhaps  he  kin  help  ye  some.'  „u:„,,,i 

"My  heart  leapt  at  the  suggestion,  and  I  exclaimed, 
'Oh,  if  he  would!     Oh,  sir,  can  you  help  me  to  JJew 

" '  Well  you're  a  nice-looking  craft,  anyhow,  and  if 
you  was  tugged  out  of  harbor,  would  sail  against  any 

wind,  I  reckon.' 

"  I  did  not  heed  his  evident  admiration  of  my  person, 
but  asked  again,  '  Will  you  help  me,  sir  ?     I  must  go  to 

"^  And  Where's  your  friends,  when  you  do  get  there  ?' 

"  I  hesitated  a  moment,  then  replied  :  '  I  don  t  know 
exactly,  but  everybody  will  know  them,  they  are  so  rich, 
and  rich  people  are  always  well  known.' 

"  Field  laughed.  '  New  York  is  a  pretty  large  place, 
my  lad ;  however  you  may  find  them  when  you  get  there. 
You're  willin'  to  risk  it,  anyhow,  are  you? 

" '  Oh,  yes,  indeed !' 

"'Well,  'tis  none  of  my  business!    Old  man  Dick  here 
wants  me  to  help  you,  and  I  like  your  fa^^'-f^df  ";^^  J 
will;  besides,!  ran  away  from  home  myself,  and  know 
what  it  is  to  need  a  friend.' 

"He  then  told  us  a  long  story  about  his  early  prna- 
tions  and  struggles,  and  of  his  ultimate  success  m  life, 
and  then  said,  'What  do  Xou  think  of  Btarting  to-monw 
or  will  you  wait  till   next  time?  'twill  only  be  two 

'"'ul'l*  will  go  to-morrow  by  all  means,'  I  answered, 

^""""'^Ali  right,  then.     You  must  bring  him  aboard  with 
the  oysters  to-morrow.  Uncle  Dick.' 
" '  Sartin.' 


if 
k 

P 

y 


m 
ta 

th 
fr 
fu 
bt 
it 
ne 

8ci 

gr 
Di 

gli 

lO' 

bo 

th( 
ha 
I  I 
hu 
is  i 
for 
agi 
arc 
an( 
the 

nil] 


ALDEANE. 


2+7 


irned  in  the  cvenino:, 
looking  white  man. 
■  I've  been  tellin'  him 
goes  to  New  York— 

tion,  and  I  exclaimed, 
rou  help  me  to  New 

craft,  anyhow,  and  if 
ould  sail  against  any 

niration  of  my  person, 
ne,  sir?     I  must  goto 

len  you  do  get  there  ?' 
jplicd  :     '  I  don't  know 
them,  they  are  so  rich, 
nown.' 

is  a  pretty  large  place, 
em  when  you  get  there, 
are  you  ?' 

is!  Old  man  Dick,  here, 
I  your  face,  and  think  I 
lome  myself,  and  know 

J  about  his  early  priya- 
altimate  success  in  life, 
ik  of  starting  to-morrow, 
,e?  'twill  only  be  two 

,11  means,'  I  answered, 

bring  him  aboard  with 
ck.' 


"  •  I'll  stow  you  away,  somewhere.     Come  on  board  an 
if  you  merely  came  to  help  the  old  man  unload.     Don't 
•  let  anybody  know  that  yon  intend  to  stay;  for  the  skip- 
per will  tear  around  above  a  little,  if  he  finds  you  while 
you're  on  board.' 

"  'I'll  be  i)erfeotly  quiet,  he  sha'nt  find  me,'  I  rejjHed. 

"  Field  sliook  hands  with  me ;  looked  at  me  admiringly ; 
muttered  under  his  breath,  'A  reg'lar  beauty,  and  no  mis- 
take,' and  walked  away. 

"  My  beauty  served  me  a  good  turn,  then.  It  interested 
the  sailor  in  my  behali;  and  led  to  my  quick  removal  to  a 
free  soil.  For  that  reason,  I  speak  candidly  and  thank- 
fully of  it,  but  Avithout  undue  vanity,  I  thank  God  for  the 
beauty  so  plentifully  bestowed  upon  me  in  my  childhood ; 
it  was  the  instrument  of  procuring  for  me  all  the  happi- 
ness of  my  after  life. 

"  Early  the  ensuing  morning  wo  went  on  board  the 
schooner  as  Field  had  directed.  He  came  forward  to 
greet  us.  The  oysters  were  soon  unloaded,  and  llnc-le 
Dick  was  ready  to  go.  As  he  shook  hands  with  me,  tears 
glistened  in  his  eyes,  and  he  muttered,  '  I've  I'arned  to 
love  ye  mighty,  young  mass'r;  I  b'lieve  you  is  a  true 
boy,  and  will  make  a  good  man,  de  Lord  prosper  ye !' 

"'Come!  come  down  here!'  said  Field, 'or  some  of 
the  hands  will  see  you !'  and  he  half  forced  me  down  the 
hatchway.  I  could  merely  utter  the  words,  *  Good-bye  I 
I  shall  never  forget  you!'  and  then  lost  sight  of  my 
humble  old  friend  forever.  Poor  old  man !  his  memory 
is  a  bright  spot  in  those  days  of  trial  and  suffering.  But 
for  him  I  might  have  perished,  or,  worse  still,  have  b-en 
again  returned  to  slavery;  for  the  persecutors  of  slaves 
are  always  ready  to  pounce  upon  unfortunate  runaways, 
and  it  is  not  probable  that  I  could  have  long  escaped 
them. 

"  The  schooner  was  soon  under  weigh,  and  I  was  begin- 
ning to  breathe  more  freely,  with  every  movement  that  bore 


248 


ALDEANE. 


iiH  fart lior  from  the  Southorn  coawt.  Field  had  not  shown 
himst'lf,  even  for  a  moment,  and  I  had  not  seen  any  per- 
son else,  as  all  were  Imsy  ahove  me.  I  was  heeoinini? 
rather  lonely  when  I  saw  a  newsi)a|)er  lyini;  ni)on  a  bnnk. 
I  took  it  np',  and  read  all  the  articles  of  interest  that  it 
eontaincd,  and  was  about  to  return  it  to  its  place,  when 
an  advertisement  of  a  runaway  slave  eauj,'ht  my  c^e.  I 
read  it  in  the  utmost  alarm ;  every  feeling  of  security 
vanished,  and  I  a^ain  felt  the  hatred  of  my  mistress  in 
the  dei^radinsj  words  : — 

"'Ilunaway — From  Arendell  House, County,  X. 

v.,  on  the  20th  day  of  October,  my  ncyro  boy  Junius.  He 
is  about  thirteen  years  old,  and  very  handsome.  He  is 
no  doubt  passing  as  a  white  boy.  A  liberal  reward  will 
be  paid  for  any  information  of  him.  If  apprehended, 
please  lodge  him  in  some  jail,  where  I  can  get  him. 

"'Mrs.  J.  C.  AUKXDKI.U' 

"My  brain  seemed  on  fire  with  excitement,  as  I  read. 
Mrs.  Arendell  was  still  persecuting  me;  my  master  had 
not  even  given  his  sanction  to  this,  for  his  name  was  not 

signed. 

" '  Field  has  betrayed  mt  !  he  is  taking  me  to  some 
port  in  North  Carolina !'  was  my  first  thought ;  and  I 
leaped  up  madly.  I  looked  at  the  date  of  the  paper. 
It  was  that  day's  issue ;  and  I  knew  that  Field  could  not 
have  seen  the  advertisement,  at  least,  before  that  morn- 
ing, therefore  in  all  likelihood  I  was  safe.  I  hid  the 
paper  behind  a  chest,  hoping  .that  it  would  not  be  seen 
until  the  end  of  the  voyage. 

"When  Field,  and  the  rest  of  the  sailors  appeared,  he 
introduced  me  as  his  cousin,  who  had  i)er8uaded  him  to 
take  me  to  New  York  on  a  pleasure  trip.  I  was  heartily 
welcomed  by  all,  and  passed  a  week  with  them  very 
pleasantly.  During  the  voyage,  my  mind  was  actively 
engaged 'in  forming  plans  for  my  future  walk  m  life. 


too 

said 

Ish 

and 

as  c 

The 

of  d 

Tho 

no  ti 

all   ( 

nion 

from 

cease 

desti 

greai 

feelii 

York 

that 

the  s 

"1 

rema 

on  d< 

ashot 

read\ 


ALDEANE. 


240 


eUl  had  not.  shown 

not  Bcon  any  im'I'- 

I  wiis  lu'CDiniiii? 

lyiiijl  upon  a  bunk, 

of  intoreat  that  it 

to  its  place,  when 

canjjtht  my  c^o.     I 

foolinfj  of  security 

of  my  mistresfl  in 

;e, County,  X. 

rro  hoy  Junius.  lie 
'  handsome.  ITe  is 
liberal  reward  will 
I.  If  ai)i)rehendcd, 
'.  can  get  him. 

J.  C.  AUKXDKI.U' 

citement,  as  I  read, 
ne;  my  master  had 
r  his  name  was  not 

taking  me  to  some 
rst  thought ;  and  I 

date  of  the  paper, 
that  Field  could  not 
:,  before  that  morn- 
as   safe.     I  hid  the 

would  not  be  seen 

sailors  appeared,  he 
\  i)er8uaded  him  to 
trip.  I  was  heartily 
ek  with  them  very 
'  mind  was  actively 
future  walk  in  life. 


Not  once  did  I  think  of  becoming  a  sailor,  although  Fiel.l 
several  times  suggested  it.  I  could  not  reconcile  myself 
to  the  idea  of  constant  association  with  such  men  as  I 
saw  arouml  nu-;  yet  I  knew  not  what  else  to  do.  I  had 
no  idea  of  New  York,  except  tliat  it  was  a  much  larger 
and  handsomer  place,  than  any  I  had  yet  seen.  I  m\\>- 
posed,  however,  that  employment  could  be  easily  found, 
even  by  a  stranger,  and  child,  as  I  then  was.  Field  shook 
his  liead  doubtfully  when  I  mentioned  this,  said  nothin<» 
to  (iiscourage  nic,  but  asked: —  ° 

" '  Why  not  go  to  your  relations  i" 
"  I  dared  not  own  that  I  had  none  in  the  city.     I  felt 
too  keenly  the  danger  of  arousing  his  suspicions ;  so  I 
sai.l  no  more  upon  the  subject,  hoping  tliat  in  some  way 
I  shoidd  be  able  to  gain  a  living.     I  confined  my  doubts 
and  fears  to  my  own  br  ast,  and  endeavored  to  appear 
as  cheerful   as  was   possible,  muler   the   circumstances. 
There  are  times  when  gayety  is  assumed  to  hide  feelings 
of  deepest  melancholy.     So  was  it  with  me  at  this  tim". 
Though  deeply  harassed  in  mind,  my  companions  saw 
no  trace  of  it.     My  laugli  was  loud  and  frequent.     I  told 
all   the  humorous  stories  I  had  ever  lieard,  or  read,  not 
more  to  amuse  the  sailors  than  to  divert  my  own  mind 
from  the  channel  of  doubt   and  perplexity  in  which  it 
ceaselessly  wandered.     I  longed,  yet  feared  to  reach  my 
destination.     I  knew  not  what  might  befall  me  in  the 
great  and  strange  city.     Therefore,  it  was  with  mingled 
feelings,  that  I  at  last  heard  that  we  were  entering  New 
York  harbor.     But  all  gloom  vanislu^d  when  I  thought 
that  in  a  few  hours  I  should  tread  a  free  soil,  loosed  from 
the  shackles  of  slavery. 

"The  schooner  cast  anchor  at  the  landing-place,  and 
remained  there  some  hours,  before  I  found  courage  to  go 
on  deck.  Field  came  down  to  tell  me  that  I  could  go 
ashore  if  I  wished.  As  I  liad  no  baggage,  I  was  soon 
ready,  and  bidding  the  little    crew  adieu,  I  stepped 


250 


ALDEANM. 


with  a  trcml  lin'4  lioart  iipon  the  hin<l,  ami  with  a  thnll 
,.f  ovultiition,  thought  that  ore  \owr  I  might  rise  to  diH- 
tiMction,  among  those  who  woi.M  seorn  me,  if  they  knew 
tl,e  story  of  mv  hirth.  I  sent  many  kind  mesmiges  to 
Uncle  Diek  and  Aunt  Helsy,  antl  though  I  oould  Hcnd 
them  nothing  of  valu.'  then,  1  said  in  my  grateful  heart, 
that  they  Bhould  be  rewarded,  at  least  in  part,  lor  what 
they  had  done.  I  could  but  press  Field's  hand  m  silence. 
The  tears  rising  unbidden,  blurred  my  sight,  and  pre- 
vented utterance.  ,,,,.,  i       . 

" '  If  you  can  not  find  yo\.r  friends,  lad,'  said  he,  at  part- 
ing 'come  hack  to  the  dock  at  night.  New  York  is  not 
the  saft'st  i.laee  in  the  world  for  a  stranger  to  be  in  after 
dark;  so  omo  back  if  you  civn  do  no  better,  \oull 
know  the  place  again,  I  guess  V 

"  '  Oh  yes,  certainly,  I  shall !     I  guess  yon  will  see  me 
R<rai„ ;  I  replied,  as  1  left  him,  with  the  conviction  that 
h?s  invitation  would  surely  be  accepted.     I  walked  on 
through  the  crowded  streets  near  the  river,  seeing  much 
tliat  struck  me  with  wonder  and  admiration.     Although 
New  York  ha4  grown  immensely  since  the  time  of  which 
1  speak,  it  8..emed  to  me  then  a  perfect  labyrinth  ot 
streets.  I  moved  on,  in  amazement, through  the  streets  and 
avenues,  looking  with  admiration  at  the  beautiful  houses 
that  arose  on  every  hand.     In  the  novelty  of  my  sur- 
roundings the  time  passed  unheeded,  and  I  was  much 
surprised  when  the  gray  shadows  of  evening  closed  sud- 
denly around  me.     I  was  in  the  upper  part  ot  the  city, 
far  from  the  river;  but  in  plarm,  I  set  my  face  lu  the 
direction  in  which  I  supposed  it  lay.     Very  quickly  the 
city  became  enshrouded  in  partial  darkness,  and  the  gleam- 
ings  of  the  lamps,  far  removed  from  each  other,  gave  it,  in 
mv  eyes,  only  a  more  weird  and  ghostly  aspect.    The 
street  in  which  I  was,  contained  only  dwelling-houses,  and 
was  almost  deserted  by  i.edestrians.     :My  heart  beat  fast 
with  terror.     Whore  was  I  to  find  shelter  for  the  night  V 


1(1,  ami  with  a  thrill 
I  nught  rise  to  ili«- 
in  mc,  if  they  know 
y  kind  mesMiiges  to 
longh  I  could  Hciid 
11  my  gmteful  heart, 
,st  in  part,  lor  what 
'Id's  hand  in  silence, 
my  sight,  and  pro- 
lad,' said  he,  at  part- 
t.  New  York  is  not 
ranger  to  be  in  alter 
D  no  better.     You'll 

ue»8  yon  will  see  me 
the  conviction  that 
.'pted.     I  walked  on 
e  river,  seeing  much 
miration.     Although 
ice  the  time  of  which 
perfect  labyrinth  of 
irongh  the  streets  and 
the  beautiful  houses 
novelty  of  my  sur- 
led,  and  I  was  mxich 
:  evening  closed  sud- 
iper  part  of  the  city, 
I  set  my  face  in  the 
y,     "Very  quickly  the 
rkness,  and  the  gleam- 
each  other,  gave  it,  in 
ghostly  aspect.     Tlic 
Y  dwelling-houses,  and 
.     My  heart  boat  fast 
slielter  for  the  night  V 


-I  L  DBA  ,V^. 


2:.  I 


This  w.as  the  one  engrossing  thought  of  my  mind.  I  waii- 
dorod  aimlessly  on,  until  at  last,  benumlM-.i  whh  o.,!d,  my 
mibs  hilled  mo,  and  I  s.u„k  down  upon  a  .loorstrp  tl.;. 
bitfivst  Kars  I  ever  shod  in  my  life  forcing  Ih.ir  way 
down  my  olu'oks.  As  I  sat  tlioro  sol.l.inir  „„t  my  h<>ait's 
agony,  I  wished  myself  again  in  sorvitud..,  aiiywhoro 
rather  than  there  alone  in  the  great  citv,  when.  lonelincrs 
IS  most  keenly  felt,  an.l  destitution  the  least  pitie<l. 

"  I  had  l)oen  wandering  Hiiic-  ("urly  morning,  an.l  had 
oaten  nothing.     Ilungor  now  came  with  full  force  npon 
me;  I  was  very  col.l  too,  and  my  fiamo  shook  painfully 
with  every  gust  of  wind  that  swept  through  the  silent 
street.     I  put  my  hand  in  one  of  my  pockets  to  get  my 
money,  thinking  that  I  would  try  to  walk  a  little  fur- 
thor  to  get  food  and  lodging  for  that  one  night  at  least. 
With  a  fooling  of  horror  that  I  can  not  describe,  I  dis. 
covered  that  my  little  treasure  was  gone!  gone!  and  I 
was  alone,  without  knowledge,  money,  or  friends.     My 
tears  eeased  to  flow  from  very  excess  of  horror  and  grief. 
Oh !  the  hour  of  anguish  that  followed,  when,  shiverincr 
with  cold,  feeling  thr;  direst  pangs  of  hunger  and  desola" 
tion,  I  sat  upon  the  cold  doorstep!    I  even  moaned  aloud 
111  my  distress ;   but  though  persons  occr.sionally  passed 
by,  they  did  not  seem  to  hoed  me.     Snow  had  begun  to 
fall  in  largo  white  flakes,  and  as  I  watched  them  slowly 
descend  they  seemed  devoid  of  all  beauty,  and  I  thought 
of  them  only  as  the  chilly  covering  of  the  niglit  that 
would  rest  upon  mc  an  inanimate  corpse  in  the  morning. 
At  last,  benumbed  with  cold,  and  very  weary,  I  fell  asleepj 
and  dreamed  of  those  I  had  left  in  bondage,  and  of  her 
who  had  given  to  my  life  all  its  bitterness.     I  dreamed 
of  revenge ;  then  that  I  was  again  in  the  power  of  ray 
hated  mistress.     Her  hands  were  grasping  me  tightly, 
and  I  was  stniggling  with  her  madly,  when  I  awoke,  to 
find  a  heavy  hand  upon  my  shoulder  shaking  me  lieartily. 
A  glare  of  light  fell  over  me,  and  the  steps  and  pavement 


i4kAl 


252 


ALlth.l  S'H. 


upon  whirh  1  liVV,oau.i..tj  tl»'  hmow -whu-1.  Im.l  lullcn  to 
tW.ln.th  of  an  inch-to  ulistc-ulikoH.lv.T. 

-c'onu.,  my  la.l,'  Hai.l  u  vou-e,  'Huh  ih  a  pretty  cold 

l,pd— .ni  Hucli  II  ni^'lit  ii»*  ''>''*  '^  <""•'  ,       ,  , 

"  I  ,nutt..ml  Homotl.inK  inur.i.-ulut.-ly,  an.l  en<l.-av«rca 
to  rise,  l.ut  ovcrc-o.no  will.  Moci,  an.l  cc.hl  mink  back 
„..in.  1  WUH  not  ixTMUttcl,  howc-v.r,  to  ho  llu-r.  I 
heanl  tho  nu.tton-.l  words:  "Tis  a  hitt.r  n.«ht-the  hoy 
v-n  treozo !'  Then  I  was  lirtcl  in  stronff  arms,  and  sliU 
1  f  unconscious, carried  i.Uo  the  i-hu-e  whence  the  l.n-ht 
li.d.t  emanated.  It  was  the  hall  of  a  lar«e  and  handsunu; 
dwelling.  Laying  me  down  npon  the  rug  at  the  loo  c.t 
tho  BtaJr«,  my  new-found  friend  «h«t  tho  heavy  door 
Boftv,  and  returned  to  my  side. 

» '  How  rac'-ed !'  he  murnn.red  ;  '  hut  handsome  enough 
to  dress  in  vidvet,  and  trend  on  flowers!  1  >v«"d^>r  who 
he  is?  A  stranger  here,  I'll  warrant.  He  has  a  d  tre.ent 
look  from  hoys  u,,ou  town.  What  shal  I  do  ...th  lam 
There'll  he  a  pretty  commotion  if  'tis  known  that  Inc. 
hrou.rht  a  poor  lad  "like  this  into  this  aristocratic  house. 
He  can't  walk,  that  is  certain.  Ho  is  searcoly  conscious. 
He  is  heavy,  but  I'll  carry  him  up  myself.     I  like  tho 

'  "Stooping  down,  ho  lifted  me  in  his  arms,  and  earned 
me  up-stairs  into  a  dimly-lighted  apartnunt,  and  laid  mo 
upon  a  sofa.  He  turned  on  the  gas,  and  presently  came 
back  to  me,  and  poured  a  little  wino  down  my  throat; 
its  genial  glow  restored  me  fully  to  eonsciousness,  and 
the  warmth  of  the  room  animated  my  body  At  tlio 
return  of  strength,  I  raised  myself  upon  my  elbow;  my 
friend  placed  his  hand  upon  my  brow  and  gently  forced 
me  back  again;  my  whole  heart  found  vent  in  my  first 
words :  '  You  have  saved  my  life,  sir  !' 

"'Perhaps  so!'  ho  replied,  a  smUe  passing  over  his 
benevolent  countenance,  'but  you  must  not  talk  now; 
but  rise  and  sit  in  this  chair  a  moment.' 


<4kAl 


-wh'u-li  hnil  fullcn  to 

hilviT. 

liiM  iH  a  i»rctty  cold 

;c>ly,  and  endcavon-tl 
ukI  cold,  mink  l)ack 
vor,  to  lie  lliiri'.  I 
.ittiTni.i?ht— the  Ijoy 
tronp  arniH,  and  Hlill 
ICO  wlionce  llie  ln-i.i,'ht 

I  lar<;c  and  handsome 
ho  ru}^  at  the  loot  of 
ihut  tho  heavy  door 

bnt  handsome  enonph 
A-ers  !  1  wonder  who 
it.     He  has  a  different 

shall  I  do  with  him? 

'tis  known  that  I'v** 
lis  aristoeratic  house, 
t  is  seareely  conscious, 
p  myself.     I  like  tho 

his  arms,  and  oarried 
part HH  lit,  and  laid  me 
IS,  and  presently  came 
,'ine  down  my  throat ; 

to  consciousness,  and 
!d  my  body.  At  tho 
■  upon  my  elbow ;  my 
row  and  gently  forced 
found  vent  in  my  first 
sir !' 
imlle  passing  over  his 

II  must  not  talk  now; 
nent.' 


ALDEANK. 


SIB 


"I  obeyed  him,  I-  it  was  so  weak  that  I  tottered  rather 
tliari  walked  to  the  placd  designated.  Fixing  my  eyes 
upon  my  friend,  I  watched  liim  as  lie  moved  about  the 
room. 

"Ho  was  ill  the  prime  of  life;  a  t.ali,  iiiiisciilar  man, 
with  a  strikingly  haiidsome  face;  his  bright  blue  eyert 
siioiie  with  kindliness,  and  every  evpnssion  beamed 
with  sympatiiy.  I  thought  at  the  time  that  I  had  never 
seen  such  a  lieautifiil  eoiintenance ;  and  now  I  can  truly 
say,  I  never  knew  one  to  fulfill  so  nearly  my  ideal  of 
sympathy  and  manly  grace.  The  light  brown  hair  was 
sprinkled  slightly  with  gray  and  clustered  heavily  over 
the  square  forehead,  giving  hiinaii  appeariuiee  of  tirmiiesH 
almost  stern.  A  smile  of  strange,  womanly  sweetness 
rested  upon  his  lips,  and  seemed  to  linger  in  the  calm 
eyes  that  he  at  length  fixed  upon  me.  Uo  had  busieil 
liimself  in  making  a  bed  upon  tho  sofa,  and  when  tlio 
task  was  completed,  said  : — 

"*C'i>me,  you  can  rest  hero  now,  and  talk  in  tlio 
morning.' 

"  A  sweet  dreamy  sense  of  repose  stole  over  mo,  an  1 
sunk  upon  the  soil  cushions  ho  liad  so  comfortably 
arranged  for  me.  Soon  to  my  vision  th.e  objects  upon 
which  I  gazed  faded  like  shadows.  Tho  sound  made  by 
the  gentleman  as  he  moved  about  the  room  fell  faintly 
upon  my  dulled  ear,  and  at  last  with  a  consciousness  of 
perfect  security,  I  fell  asleep. 

"  The  bright  sunlight  was  streaming  into  the  apartment 
■when  I  awoke,  revealing  splendors  before,  even  by  me, 
nnthought  of.  A  rich  carpet  of  Tyrian  dyes  covered 
tho  floor,  and  curtains  of  heavy  damask  and  cloudlike 
lace  Ining  before  the  windows.  The  bureau  and  tables 
were  of  rosewood,  marble-toi)ped,  and  strewn  with  beau- 
tiful and  costly  articles.  I  was  da/zled  by  the  sight, 
so  different  from  my  ideal  of  beauty — Grassmere — that 
for  some  moments  I  could  bnt  gaze  on  all  this  mai'iiifl- 


254: 


ALDEANE. 


cence,  fearing  to  speak,  lest  it  should  prove  a  •iream 
and  vanish  at  a  word.  My  host  was  breakfasting,  and 
also  reading  the  morning  paper,  in  which  he  was  so 
deeply  en-aged  that  I  was  unnoticed.  I  was  ashamed 
to  pui  on  my  ragged  and  dirty  clothes  but,  as  I  had  no 
others  I  did  so,  and  went  and  stood  timidly  before  the  fare 
Mv  entertainer  looked  at  me  with  a  glance  of  interest 
and  compassion,  and  rising  from  his  chair  motioned  me 
to  take  it.  I  did  so.  He  seated  himself  by  the  fire, 
placed  his  hands  upon  his  knees,  and  for  some  time 
regarded  me  in  silence. 

" '  Who  are  you  ?'  he  at  last  inquired  abruptly. 

"I  was  startled  by  the  question,  hesitated  a  moment, 
then  told  him  my  true  name. 

" '  Where  did  you  come  from  ?' 

«' '  North  Carolina,  sir.' 

'"Indeed!   Why  did  you  leave  there!    Tell  me  all 

about  it.'  ...      ,    . 

» I  remained  for  some  minutes  silent,  hesitatmg  between 
truth  and  falsehood.      I   at  first  thought  that  I  would 
answer  his  questions  in  the  same  manner  that  I  had  those 
of  Uncle  Dick,  but  I  knew  that  I  had  a  man  of  mind  to 
deal   with,   one    that   could    not   readily   be   deceived; 
besides,  I  was  deeply  grateful  to  him  for  the  kindness 
he  had  shown  me.     The  snow  lay  thick  in  the  streets, 
and  upon  the  housetops,  and  I  felt  that,  but  for  him,  it 
,ni-ht  then  have  been  my  winding-sheet.     I  had  sworn 
that  no  man  should  ever  know  the  story  of  my  birth, 
but  him  I  could  not  deceive.     So  burying  my  face  in 
mv  hands,  for  I  felt,  like  a  blighting  curse,  the  stigma 
re8tin.r  upon  me,  I  told  him  all,  ai  a  few  hurried  sen- 
tences ;  then  awaited  with  terror  at  ^  despair  ray  sentence 
'to  depart,' for  I  felt  that  it  would  surely  come,  and 
that  I  should  again  become  an  outcast.     I  had  tasted  of 
warmth  and  comfort,  only  to  drink  the  more  deeply  of 
utter  destitution. 


11 
ti 
f( 
ri 
cl 
m 
cj 

la 


tu 
te 
se 

lit 
th 
pr 

an 

ha^ 

dii 

gn 

bo( 

in<] 
< 

ap 

cor 
sell 
bla 
ad> 
bro 
had 


T 


ALDEANE. 


Id  prove  a  uream, 
i8  breakfasting,  and 

which  he  was  so 
d.  I  was  ashamed 
es,  but,  as  I  had  no 
nidly  before  the  fire. 
1  glance  of  interest 

chair  motioned  me 
himself  by  the  fire, 
and  for  some   time 

red  abruptly, 
lesitated  a  moment, 


there!    Tell  me  all 

t,  hesitating  between 
lought  that  I  would 
nner  that  I  had  those 
id  a  man  of  mind  to 
eadily  be  deceived; 
lim  for  the  kindness 
thick  in  the  streets, 

that,  but  for  him,  it 
-sheet.  I  had  sworn 
le  story  of  my  birth, 

burying  my  face  in 
ng  curse,  the  stigma 
u  a  few  hurried  sen- 
'  despair  my  sentence, 
lid  surely  come,  and 
cast.  I  had  tasted  of 
:  the  more  deeply  of 


256 


"  I  felt — I  could  not  look  at  him — that  he  was  exceed- 
ingly astonished,  and  was  prepared  for  violent  exclama- 
tions and  denunciations— but  not  for  the  silence  that 
followed  my  words.  I  looked  up  timidly,  and  saw  him 
rise  and  pace  the  floor  in  deep  thought.  I  watched  him 
closely ;  not  a  movement  or  cliange  of  expression  escaped 
my  notice,  but  I  could  read  nothing  of  my  fate  upon  his 
calm  features. 

"'Have  you  told  me  all  the  truth?'  he  inquired,  at 
last. 

"'Yes,  sir,  all." 

" '  Then  I  will  not  desert  you !' 

"  How  my  heart  throbbed  at  the  words.  A  tide  of 
tumultuous  joy  rushed  over  my  soul,  and  I  burst  into 
tears,  weeping  silently  for  a  time;  then,  in  broken 
sentences  strove  to  express  my  gratitude. 

We  nmst  do  something  to  alter  your  appearance  a 
little,' he  said,  striving  to  silence  .ic.  'Here,  go  into 
the  other  room,  and  wash  yourself,  I  will  be  back 
presently.' 

"  He  seized  his  hat,  hastily  put  on  a  heavy  overcoat, 
and  left  the  room.  I  went  into  the  bath-room— that  he 
had  pointed  out— astonished  at  all  I  saw,  but  obeyed  his 
directions  implicitly,  and  when  ray  friend  returned  I 
greeted  him,  feeling  intensely  happy ;  mind  as  well  as 
body  invigorated  by  the  bath  in  which  I  had  so  freely 
indulged. 

"'You  will  find  a  suit  of  clothes,'  he  said,  handing  me 
a  parcel. 

"  I  opened  it,  and  found  every  article  necessary  for  a 
complete  toilet.  I  was  soon  dressed,  and  surveyed  my- 
self with  some  pride  in  the  large  mirror.  My  suit  of  plain 
black  fitting  admirably,  showing  my  figure  to  full 
advantage;  and  though  my  long  curls  fell  over  my 
broad  white  collar,  they  were  smooth  and  glossy,  and 
had  lost  uuich  of  their  elfish  appearance. 


256 


ALDEANE. 


"  '  They  nmst  be  cut  off !'  said  my  frieiul,  as  he  glanced 
at  mo  approvm-lv.  'You  will  do  then,  I  flunk.  A 
few  weeks  w.ll  round  your  cheeks  ajrain,  though  they  are 
very  thin  and  sallow  now.  Come,  what  is  your  name  ? 
I  have  forgotten— we  will  go  to  a  harher  now.' 

"  In  a  few  minutes  we  were  upon  the  street.  I  could 
think  of  nothing  but  the  events  that  had  taken  place 
since  last  I  trod  them.  I  had  fallen  into  a  deep  revene 
when  my  companion  again  asked,  'What  is  your  name  i 
Did  I  not  tell  you  that  I  had  forgotten  ?' 

« '  Oh  sir ''  I  said,  '  do  not  remind  me  agam  that  1 
have  been  a  slave  !  Call  me  any  thing  you  wish  ;  but  I 
can  not  longer  bear  the  name  that  I  so  utterly  abhor  ! 

"  llQ  seemed  surprised  at  my  vehemence.  '  Your  wish 
shall  be  gratified,'  he  replied,  'it  would  be  no  longer 
safe  for  you  to  be  known  by  your  own  name.  You  may 
take  mine-it  is  Kaymond-and  place  George  before  it  it 

it  suits  you.' 

"  '  It  will  do  excellently,  sir !' 

"Thus  did  I  obtain  the  name  that  I  am  now  known  by. 
On  our  return  to  the  boarding-house,  he  informed  me 
that  he  was  a  merchant,  residing  in  Toronto,  was  a- 
bachelor  and  rich,  and  that  he  would  educate  and  pro- 
vide for  me,  if  I  would  promise  to  remam  with  him,  to 
comfort  his  old  age.  '  Call  me  Uncle,'  he  said  m  con- 
clusion, 'and  treat  me  as  a  son  should  do,  and  1  will 
prove  a  father  to  you.'  ,    /.   ui 

"I  attempted  to  express  my  gratitude  but  only  feebly 
succeeded.  'I  have  met  wit<h  so  many  kind  fnends,  1 
at  last  exclaimed,  'how  dearly  I  wish  that  I  could  in 
some  way  reward  them  all,  but  my  obligations  to  you 
can  never  be  canceled !' 

"  '  Never  mind  that !  your  love  and  obedience  are  all  1 
want.  Some  more  substantial  proof  of  your  gratitude, 
might  however  be  acceptable  to  some  of  your  humbler 
friends.' 


T 


ALDEAKE. 


2S7 


iend,  as  he  glanced 
then,  I  tliink.  A 
in,  though  they  are 
liat  is  your  name  ? 
l)er  now.' 

Iio  street.  I  could 
t  had  taken  place 
nto  a  deep  reverie 
hat  is  your  name  ? 
n?' 

d  me  again  that  I 
ig  you  wish  ;  but  I 
o  utterly  abhor !' 
lence.  '  Your  wish 
'ould  be  no  longer 
n  name.  You  may 
George  before  it  if 


[  am  now  known  by. 
se,  he  informed  me 
in  Toronto,  was  ar 
d  educate  and  pro- 
emain  with  him,  to 
ile,'  he  said  in  con- 
ould  do,  and  I  will 

ude  but  only  feebly 
lany  kind  friends,'  I 
rish  that  I  could  in 
yr  obligations  to  j  ou 

id  obedience  are  all  I 
if  of  your  gratitude, 
me  of  your  humbler 


"  I  thonglit  so  too,  but  as  I  Iiad  nothing  in  my  posses- 
sion tliat  1  could  give  thoni,  I  said  notiiing.  3Ir.  Ray- 
mond seomc.l  weary,  and  said  no  more.  I  co^ild  not  sleej) 
(luring  the  Avliole  night,  so  much  was  my  mind  tijo-rossed 
by  the  fortune  that  had  befallen  me.  I  could  scarcely 
credit  my  senses,  all  seemed  so  strange  and  improbable 
to  me.  The  evidences  of  truth  however,  were  not  want- 
ing, and  with  a  spirit  of  exquisite  happiness  I  greeted  the 
Iigl»t  of  morning.  Immediately  after  breakfast  3Ir.  Ray- 
mond oi)ened  his  desk,  placed  some  ])aper  ui)on  it,  and 
bade  me  Avrite  a  note  to  old  Uncle  Dick.  '  And  you  may 
melose  this,'  he  said,  giving  me  a  paper.  I  opened  it 
and  found  a  check  for  live  hundred  dollars. 

I3ut,  sir  r  I  exclaimed,  in  surprise,  '  this  is  far  too 
much — a  fortune  to  them.' 

Pcriiaps  so,  George,  but  not  much  to  me.  Make  haste, 
I  want  to  go  down  to  the  docks  to  find  the  little  sloop 
you  came  in.  We  can  send  this  letter  by  Field ;  it  is  not 
likely  that  he  has  sailed  yet.' 

"  In  a  few  minutes  we  were  upon  the  street,  and  in  a 
much  shorter  time  than  I  could  have  thought  possible 
were  by  the  river.  Mr.  Raymond's  knowledge  of  ship- 
ping led  us  directly  to  the  right  spot,  and  we  were  soon 
upon  the  deck  of  the  little  vessel  that  had  broucrht  me 
from  the  land  of  slavery  and  degradation  to  that  of  free- 
dom and  prosperity.  Xone  of  the  crew  recognized  me 
Even  Field  passed  me  by.  I  called  his  name;  he  knew 
my  voice  and  looked  at  me  in  the  greatest  surprise. 

"  '  This  is  the  relative  that  I  spoke  of,'  I  said,  pointing 
to  Mr.  Raymond.     '  You  see  he  took  me  in.' 

"Mr.  Raymond  thanked  him  for  bringing  me,  as  if  I 
was  indeed  a  beloved  relative.  Recovering  the  power  of 
speech,  of  which  surprise  had  for  a  time  bereft  him,  the 
honest  sailor  replied  in  broken  exclamations  of  wonder 
and  delight : — 

" '  The  schoonei  will  move  oif  in  a  fiw  inoui!>!.ts  '  lu; 


2r)8 


ALDEANE. 


])rosentljr  cxclaiinod,  as  a  loud  call  from  the  mate  s\im- 
luoncd  him  to  his  duty. 

"  'Give  this  kttor  to  Uncle  Dick,  and  may  God  bkss 
von  forever,  Field  !'  I  said,  shaking  hands  with  him. 
*    "Mr.  Raymoid  performed  the  same   ceremony,   and 
I  cauf ht  a  glimpse  of  seveml  large  pieces  of  gold  left  in 
the  sailor's  open  palm.     He  whistled  slightly,  dropped 
the  money  piece  by  piece  into  his  pocket,  turned  a\vay 
at  a  second  summons  from  the  mate,  saying, '  V\\  drink 
your  health  with  that,  sir!'  and  sprang  into  the  rigging 
While  we  hastily  left  the  vessel,  and  my  friend  Field  lor- 
<>ver.     Athough  I  have  often  wandered  along  the  docks 
of  New  York,  hoping  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  them,  I  have 
never  done  so  ;  and  perhaps  long  ere  this  both  ship  and 
Bailor  may  have  stranded  on  the  dark  shores  of  eternity. 
"  We  remained  in  New  York  a  week  longer,  and  then 
Uncle  Walter,  as  he  bade  me  call  him,  took  me  to  his  beauti- 
ful home  in  Toronto.     An  old  housekeeper  and  several  ser- 
vants formed  his  household.     All  seemed  to  have  been  in 
his  service  some  time,  for  they  were  accustomed  to  antici- 
pate all  his  wishes,  and  to  perform  them  with  alacrity, 
also  to  respect  the  many  whims  and  eccentricities  that 
his  bachelor  life  had  given  hinu    In  some  way,  the  idea 
became  prevalent  that  I  was  Mr.  Raymond's  brother's 
child,  and  was  treated  with  the  respect  due  to  the  nephew 
of  so  wealthy  and  worthy  a  citizen.     A  tutor  was  pro- 
cured for  me,  and  under  his  instruction  I  acquired  an 
insight  into  the  ^^arious  branches  of  knowledge  that  con- 
stitute a  classical  education.     For  several  years  I  was 
thus  happily  employed,  and  was   as  contented  as  ^he 
many  wrongs  which  still   remained    unavenged   would 
allow  me  to  be,     I  had  not  forgotten  my  oaths  of  ven- 
geance—and, after  the  novelty  of  my  situation  had  worn 
away,  I  took  a  grim  delight  in  picturing  to  myself  how 
I  would  bring  my  persecutors  in  shame  to  the  gra.e, 
while  I  would  revel  in  the  glorious  delights  of  gratified 


re 

to 
to 
be 
Al 
sp( 
is  I 

IR'i 

on 

Di. 

Avh 

qui 

my 

th'ii 

'Al 
(( 

his 
and 
He 
that 
thei 
accc 
tion 
the 

guai 

(( 

forr 
was 
his  j 
man 
child 
I  sai 
she  ( 
later 
old  1 
laugl 


•om  the  mate  8\im- 

ind  may  God  bless 
lantls  with  him. 
me  ceremony,  and 
eces  of  jjold  left  in 
d  slightly,  dropped 
ocket,  turned  away 
,  saying, '  FU  drink 
ng  into  the  rigging 
ny  friend  Field  for- 
■cd  along  the  docks 
pse  of  them,  I  have 
i  this  both  ship  and 
i.  shores  of  eternity, 
ek  longer,  and  then 
ook  me  to  his  beauli- 
ieperand  several  ser- 
med  to  have  been  in 
.ccustomed  to  antici- 
them  with  alacrity, 
d  eccentricities  that 

some  way,  the  idea 
laymond's  brother's 
;t  due  to  the  nephew 
A  tutor  was  pro- 
iction  I  acquired  an 
knowledge  that  con- 
several  years  I  was 
19  contented  as  ^he 
I  unavenged  would 
en  my  oaths  of  ven- 
y  situation  had  worn 
turing  to  myself  how 
diame  to  the  graze, 

delights  of  gratified 


AIDE  AN  E. 


259 


revenge.    These  thouglits  never  left  me,  hut  became  dearer 

to  nn  J  J^^J;i;'-^^';^''^^\'"-">'oo^1.     I  «oldom  spoke  of  them 
o  Uncle  Walter,  but  gloated  over  them !:,  secret,  until  they 
bocanve  a  part  of  my  very  being.      You  will   shudde.- 
Ahleane,  as  you  read  this,  and  well  you  may,  for  this  fo„ 
spot  .„  my  soul  can  never  be  cleansed  u.itil  my  vengeanT 
;:  ;r"';'f' '•     '*  -^  ^'---^y  begun-the  consLmaf  ion  Ts 
o  .  r    I     7-^T  ""'""'^^  ^""^  *''''^'  I  «™  infatuated-led 
Did  not   fa  0  place  directly  in   my  way  the  object  by 
winch  I  could  wreck  my  hatred,  and  pohu   .ut  the  very 
quick  m  the  heart  of  my  adversary?    By  givin<.  life  to 
my  own  heart,  I  portion  out  a  bitter  existenct  to  lilm.     In 
th.s  I  exult.     Yes  !  yes !     I  believe  alone  in  the  law- 
An  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth  ' 

Z  7u  V  7;-   f  "^"^  °^"''*'^'"''  ""''^  Srief  at  his  dtath, 
and  folt  but  httle  inclination  for  any  species  of  pleasure.' 

le  had  however  arranged  with  the  elder  Mr.  Morgan 

lat  I  should  make  the  grand  tour  with  his  son;  and, 

therefore,  w^ien  Frederic  leil  for  Europe  I  reluc  antly- 

accompanied  him,  and  of  course  during  our  long  associ.^ 

lon  formed  a  friendship  for  him  which  materially  lessened 

guard?an  '"'  ''  '^"  ^"'^  ^  ^'^'  "'  '^'^  ^^''  °^  ""y 
"  But  wherever  I  went,  and  whatever  I  did,  my  desire 
for  revenge  grew  stronger  with  every  breath  I  drew,  and 
was  unconsciously  daily  held  before  me  by  Morgan  in 
his  frequent  conversation  concerning  the  fami'y  of  the 

cTud  o?ti.  I^TfT^'^'f^^^^y  ^''  «"'^«™i«n'«  ion  the 
I  itl  t,  '^  ^"'f  ^"  Arendell-the  gentle  Leonore. 
I  8.i.d,  hen,  m  my  heart,  this  shall  be  my  revenge- 
s^u.  shall  be  my  wife-and  when  I  saw  her  a  few  moLhs 
later  at  Morgan's  wedding,  I  swore  it.  Here  I  met  mv 
old  master  lus  amiable  wife,  and  lovely  daughter.  I 
laughed  as  I  thought  how  I  would  torture  his  unsuspectin.. 


260 


ALDEANE. 


heart  ere  he  «ho«l.l  again  escape  "^^-     ^  ^;\""^'\"Y:;JJ  ^ 
au..hter,  and  afterwara  aisclo«c  to  Inm  the  ^vhoh^    uUh. 
1    .e;cle(    in  the   thought,  and   proceecU-a  carctally  to- 
V    a        realization.     1  Boon  discovered  that  I  poKsessc^ 
a    >rt  of  weird  power  over  Leonore,  and  I  .v.eUled  it 
ri.^ii  V    reToicing^o  see  her  casting  all   tl>e   boundless 
:d  h  of'herWe  upon  xne.     I  believed  myselt  ,>ro o 
j^^  anst  all  fascinations  ;  what  then  was  my  ^^H-.-  >^  h- 
i  found  that  she  had  enthralled  my  heart,  and  that  I 
o  rt   with  all  the  deep  passionate  -nu-stness  of  my 
ntnre      A  desperate  struggle  between  love   and  hate 
foUow'dland  love  triumphed.     I  could  t^,rego  all  my 
cl   rilhed  plans  of  vengeance,  rather  than  give  sorrow   o 
tlZ  perfect  in  every  attribute  of  goodness  and  beauty 
as  Leonore.     I  determined  to  remain  no  longei-  with  hei, 
Lst   my  r  solution   should  falter,   or  her  affections  be 
centevexl  too  deeply  in  me  to  be  removed.    I  saw  he 
cleeks  pale,  and  her  bosom  heave  tnmultuously  as  I  left 
her.     I  saw  her  grief,  but  she  knew  nothing  of  the  de- 
spair that  filled  my  own  heart. 

^" I  returned  to  Toronto;  then,  restless  and  despamng 
Bou^rht  relief  again  in  travel.  I  went  to  ^  ew  1  ork,  and 
almost  the  first  persons  I  saw  were  those  from  whom  I 
haTfled.  Mv  dJsthiy  to  me  was  plain-my  vengeance 
was  a  any  rate  to  be  satisfied.  Leonore  was  p.ale,  and 
Toopng:  my  presence  gave  a  glow  to  her  cheek  and 
Ufe  to  her  hiart.  To  leave  her  again  would  be  worse 
uL  death  to  both.  I  eould  not  tear  myself  away  and 
see  her  die ;  for  you  have  heard  truth  in  these  lines : 

'Alas I  the  love  of  woman,  it  is  known 
To  bo  a  lovely  and  a  fearful  thing. 
For  all  of  hers  upon  that  die  is  thrown, 

And  if  'tis  lost,  life  has  no  more  to  bring- 
To  her— but  inockings  of  the  past  alone  I' 

"You  know  my  story  now.    In  marrying  Leonore,  I 
shall  find  that  happiness  that  else  I  can  never  know.    Her 


I  would  miir.y  his 
im  the  wbole  truth, 
ec-aod  carefully  to- 
ed that  1  possessed 
;,  aud  I  wielded  it 

all   the   boundless 
ieved  myself  proof 
as  my  surprise  when 
y  heart,  and  that  I 
te  earnestness  of  my 
reen  love  and  hate 
3ould  forego  all  my 
than  give  sorrow^  to 
roodness  and  beauty 
I  no  longer  with  her, 
or  her  affections  be 
removed.     I  saw  her 
umultuously  as  I  left 
V  nothing  of  the  de- 

stless  and  despairing, 
It  to  New  York,  and 
B  those  from  whom  I 
plain— my  vengeance 
,epnore  was  pale,  and 
ow  to  her  cheek  aud 
gain  would  be  worse 
tear  myself  away  and 
ith  in  these  lines : 

knowa 

hing. 

thrown, 

ore  to  bring — 

ast  alone  I' 

n  marrying  Leonore,  I 
can  never  know.    Her 


A  LDEANE. 


261 


presence  will  purify  the  plaguo-spot  of  mv  existence 
I— m  one  word— sliall  he  avenged.  The  father,  who  now 
glories  in  his  beautiful  daughter,  and  revels  in  fan.ied  se- 
curity, shall  know  that  his  rich  and  aristocratic  son-in- 
I.iw  was  once  his  despised  slave.  Leonore  shall  know 
nothing  of  this.  He  will  not  dare  tell  her,  and  the  secret 
aggravated  by  the  sight  of  lier  happiness  with  me— with' 
me- and  the  necessity  that  he  shall  be  under  of  (.xtend- 
ing  his  hospitality  and  homage  to  me,  shall  gall  and  frot 
liis  life  away." 

Thus,  as  abruptly  as  it  had  begun,  ended  the  record  of 
a  life,  which  Aldeane  had  herself  seen  closed,  without  one 
aspiration,  without  one  hope  of  vengeance  realized.  But 
alas,  and  alas !  the  retribution  had  come  upon  the  ene- 
mies of  the  slave  Junius,  when  it  could  give  to  him  no 
glow  of  savage  pleasure.  "  And,  O  God !"  cried  Aldeane 
"when  will  this  terrible  retribution  end ?"  and,  with  a 
vision  before  her  of  the  stricken  Leonore  and  her  half- 
demented  father,  she  bent  her  flice  upon  her  hands  and 
wept  bitterly. 

And  she  did  not  see  then,  nor  for  months  later,  why 
Raymond  had  written  this  tale  for  her.  But  she  was 
glad,  amid  all  her  grief,  that  he  had  written  it,  that  ho 
had  given  some  excuse,  however  weak  it  might  in  reality 
be,  for  that  deep  plot  which  bade  fair  to  render  Arendell 
House  as  desolate  as  had  been  for  years  the  mansion  at 
Grassmere. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 


THK   DROOPING   FLOWKB. 


Immediately  after  the  funeral,  Mr.  Blake  communica- 
ted the  sad  news  of  George  Raymond's  death  to  Mr. 
Pierce,  the  senior  partner  of  the  firm  of  which  the 
deceased  had  been  a  member.  As  quickly  as  possible  he 
replied  in  person  to  the  message. 

He  seemed  deeply  to  lament  the  early  death  of  his 
friend — and  though  he  was  greatly  shocked  and  surprised 
at  the  discovery  of  his  plebeian  birth,  it  seemed  in  no  de- 
gree to  lessen  his  regard  for  him.  Colonel  Arendell  was 
by  this  time  convalescent.  He  had  been  very  near  the 
grave,  but  was  again  raised  to  life,  though  it  was  feeble, 
and  every  slight  excitement  seemed  almost  to  extinguish 
t'le  flickering  flame.  He  could  not  for  a  moment  forget 
or  forgive  the  revenge  that  Raymond  was  about  to  visit 
upon  him.  The  condolence  of  friends  irritated  him 
severely — for  he  felt  that  his  name  would  ever  be  used  in 
connection  with  that  of  the  renegade  slave — who  had 
thrown  a  stain  upon  it  forever.  It  was  indeed  with  diffi- 
culty that  he  restrained  himself  from  speaking  of  it  in  the 
l)re8ence  of  Leonore — who  stillVemained  in  ignorance  of  it. 
]\y  some  kind  instinct,  as  well  as  by  their  mistress's 
commands,  the  slaves  were  silent  concerning  Raymond  in 
her  presence,  and  she  never  mentioned  him,  hiding  the 
memory  of  her  love  deep  in  her  pure  heart — where  it  was 
for  from  the  gaze  of  others — while  it  held  a  strong  sway 
over  every  emotion  of  her  gentle  nature — purifying 
all  her  thoughts,  and  ethe'ealizing  all  her  aspirations. 


tha 

he  f 

her 

plai 

unci 

the 

inde 

deat 

die. 

bodj 

nearl 

Hunij 

hati(] 

conn 

Al 

to  an 

Hut 

did  f; 

being 

l>elov 

l)lace 

one  <j 

could 

out  ki 

Mr. 

seeing 

remaii 

pleasu 

For 

Pierce 

ulousl^ 

"Mi 


ni. 


KR. 


,  Blake  communica- 
jnd's  death  to  Mr. 
firm  of  which  tho 
iiickly  as  possible  he 

early  death  of  his 
ocked  and  surprised 
,  it  seemed  in  no  de- 
olonel  ArendeU  was 
been  very  near  the 
liough  it  was  feeble, 
ilmost  to  extinguish 
br  a  moment  forget 
d  was  about  to  visit 
lends  irritated  him 
auld  ever  be  used  in 
ide  slave — who  had 
,'as  indeed  with  diffi- 
speaking  of  it  in  the 
led  in  ignorance  of  it. 

by  their  mistress's 
cerning  Raymond  in 
ined  him,  hiding  the 
heart — where  it  was 
held  a  strong  sway 
3  nature — purifying 
1  her  aspirations. 


A  LDEAys. 


968 


st,?^Lr";;;!r'H  r^l'y  7-"/'-yo»"^  .nounu.r-„„.l 
riitk.n     .  thoi.     IJut   f„r  her  his  heart  sorrowed  most 

"cariy  ,„v<,r.,l  it ;  ,li.e.,,c  will  «„,„  porti,™  «  3      C™ 

»n,.,4,,a,„t„i:c;':;f;r:':,ri:?,'«»-'-" 

Aldeane  felt  tliat  this  was  trn..       v«f     u  ^ 

H„rz  "'■'■  'T  *r  '^"''"^"'"  wi.ieV.t  Sir 

l>ut  that  seemed  a  hoDeless  t-mic      Af-    t-»-        ,         ."' 

|.lacc  where  ,h«  hoped  ere  l„„g  ,|,„  ,„  re,^™  'T  *" 

Z,C       ■      f       .    ''""  '""  ^i  "  'hall  not  bo'"  iith. 
out  knrnvng  how,  i„  „„y  w„y,  „„  „„„,,,    ^.     ^      "■«>- 

For  noma  moment,  she  reraainrf  ,ile„t    while  Afr 
I»ree^«^rewr,„„  regard  her.     At  ,.t  1  ^t^t 

"Mr.  Pierce,  must  you  take  him  away  ?" 

He  w.a8  for  a  moment  startled  by  this  abmpt  question, 


364 


ALDBAN  t:. 


It 


bvit  pivscntly  replied :  "  Sucli  are  my  iiiHtnu-.tions,  Mi>s 
Aren.lell." 

"I  won't  let  him  ro!  Indeed,  I  ean  not!"  she  ex- 
claimed quickly,  twininj];  her  hands  nervously  together. 
"  Am  I  not  his  wife  y     He  shall  stay  with  me  !" 

"Tray  don't  excite  yourself,"  returned  Mr,  Pierce, 
soothingly.  "  You  have  indeed  a  just  right  to  claim  the 
body  of  our  lamente.i  friend.  Still  .Mr.  Edward  Uaymoiid 
desired  that  every  honor  should  be  paid  him,  and  for 
that  i)urpose  wished  him  to  Iw  interred  in  Canada." 

"  Who  is  this  Mr.  Edward   Kaymond  ?     I  never  lieard 

of  him  before." 

"He  is  a  distant  relative  of  the  late  Walter  Raymond, 
quite  an  old  num,  and  immensely  rich.  For  some  reason 
lie  has  not  been  friendly  with  Mr.  Ui»>  -lond  for  years. 
'But  now  he  seems  to  have  forgotte.  ory  c-mw  for 
anger,  if  any  ever  existed,  and  to  desire  every  attention 
to\o  paid  to  the  remains  of  him  who  has  for  so  h)ng 
Htood  between  him  and  a  vast  estate.  I  act  altogether 
•    uniler  his  directions." 

"  Mr.  Pierce,"  replied  Lconorc,  "  I  know  that  you  an- 

kind.     You  would  not  voluntarily  trample  upon  a  heart, 

bruised  and  bleeding  as  mine  is.     You  do  not  guess  th.' 

^jxtcnt  of  my  sufferings,  and  I  know  that  they  will  soon 

Ae  past.     All  that  I  desire  on  earth,  is  the  simple  privi- 

"Ttee  of  being  allowed  to  rest  by  the  side  of  Raymond,  in 

iy>e  grave-yard  at  Loring.     Can  you  deny  me  that  little 

^^consolation  V" 

lie  looked  at  her  with  djeep  pity. 
"  You  know  that  I  am  dying,"  she  continued,  wistfully. 
He  could  not  deny  the  assertion.     lie  took  her  hand 
tenderly,   and  said  huskily,  "  Give  me  your  commands, 
and  I  will  obey  them  spite  of  all  previous  orders." 

"Ah!  thank  you!  thank  you!"  murmured  Leonore. 
"You  will  then  allow  George  to  remain  here.  Oh,  it 
would  be  worse   than   death   to  see   him  taken  away ! 


I 


my  instnictions,  MisH 

I  can  not!"  b1>p  ox- 
Is  ntTVOUfily  togetlicr. 
y  with  mc!" 

returned  Mr,  Pierce, 
just  right  to  claim  the 

Mr.  Kdward  llaymontl 

be  paid  him,  and  for 
erred  in  Canada." 
mond  ?     I  never  lieunl 

hite  Walter  Raymond, 
rich.  For  some  reason 
r.  lli»)  lond  for  years, 
otte.  ery  causes  for 
desire  overy  attention 
n  who  has  for  so  loni^ 
tate.     I  act  altoicetlicr 

"  I  know  that  you  arc 
'  trample  upon  a  heart, 

You  do  not  guess  the 
low^  that  they  will  soon 
rth,  is  the  simple  privi- 
he  side  of  Raymond,  in 
^ou  deny  me  that  little 


iho  continued,  wistfully, 
on.  lie  took  her  hand 
VQ  mc  your  commands, 
previous  orders." 
!"  murmured  Leonore. 
>  remain  here.  Oh ,  it 
sec   him  taken  away! 


A  LDEANE. 


205 


Death!  death!"  she  repeated  in  a  low  voice      "It  . 
no  Htinj?  IWr  me."  ^*        "has 

vl^^  ""'  7**'"''.'"'  ""y  '^*''""  ^^'^*  ^^••<"'<1^H  !"  oried  Mr 
i  lorce,  prcatiy  asjiti.t.-d.     "  VII  hI.uII  1„.  ,.m  ,  .       ; 

"I  W  T.T  '"•"  "'"  """"■""'•  "'""■"■Wing  vole 
in.ivo   Heard  niv  sunimonu      r    oi.^ii  .       ^'^* 

«i,„    -11  ..^  -""iimoMH.     1   snail  soon  iro  hotm* " 

f5ho  sighed  wearily,  andadded-— « I  ]o„.r  fn  „         iu 
rest  with  him."  ^ '"'•«  to  go  and  be  at 

omoiion    ":';V'"^""''"  '^'^  Mr.  Pierce  in  a  voice  of  deep 

or  at  least  contented."  /  /v.t  ui  nappy 

airiivs  Tr,  ''"'  ^'""^  '''"«'-'^«  «-^Pt  fro™  my  view 
a  I  joys  and  pleasures,  and  Iron,  my  heart  all  its  asn  r^ 
.ons,    she  answered,  simply.     « The  winds  of  c  „c  m  s 
ortuneh.ave  borne  from  my  s.ul  all  its  beauty       Cn 
that  arid  desert  the  flowers  of  love  11  T    ' '        ^ 
;>Ioom  again.     Oh,  I  ^o.^Z  dlt.d  t::^].:r  Z^H 
has  no  home   or  me !"   A  few  tears  strayed  ove    her  pale 
cceks,  and  fell  upon  the  little  white  ha.uls  twinin  .  them! 
solves  so  nervously  together  in  her  lap.     "  Do    ou  t  Zk 
those  thoughts  so  very  wicked  ?    Indeed,  I  ej  n^  bit 

1« 


260 


ALDEANE. 


iKh  th.'iii !"  Mu-   Hiiul,  hopeloHHly,  «>'"»'"'«  "P  «'<''  ''" 
exi.rosHi.m  Duelling  from  ilH  ohil-linh  i-ititiilnrHH. 

Tlic  «lr..ii«  man  botV.rt.  lur  l..iit  his  htacl.m.a  wq.t  hko 

ft  litth'  fhil<!.  ^  ,, 

» I  will  K'o  now,"  ho  pii'Hontly  mii.l,  vi-ry  Horrowfully. 
"MiHS  Ari'iulell,  I  will  ^'«)  fon'V.M-;  my  pres.nce  I  uin 
8un',  must  -ivf  aa.Utiomil  «»<"""  to  your  thouRhts.  1 
will  only  have  a  Huitable  t..ml.Htoue  (.TL.eU.a,  and  then  1 
will  U'avti  you  ttlouc  lo  your  Hucrcd  pricf." 

Loonori-  prcssi'd  his  hand  over  hir  heart,  .i.uckly,  while 
n  HpaKin  of  a-oi.y  for  a  moment  c-ontnuU-il  h.'r  leaturcs. 
Mr  Piorce  looked  at  her  in  alarm.  "It  i«  nothing  she 
replied,  answering  hin  look  of  inquiry.  "  Hear  v,ith  me 
one  moment  lont;«'r." 

He  sat  down  besi.le  her,  and  bepf^'ed  her  to  proceed. 
"  You  know  I  ollen  go  to  George's  grave,"  she  Huid,  sotl- 
Iv  "  You  know  how  sweet  a  plaee  it  is.  I  would  not  see  it 
changed.  Wait  until  another  hilloek  rises  beside  his,  then 
two  marble  slabs  shall  mark  the  place  where  we  repose. 
•  et  not  the  sacred  ground  be  touched  till  then.  Choose 
lor  us  both  monuments,  and  let  them  be  erected  to- 
gether." 

Mr  Pierce  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 
"  I,  will  not  be  long !"  she  pleaded.     «  Oh !  how  could 
I  bear  to  see  his  name  there  alone!  and  read  each  time 
I  go  there  the  record  of  that  death  that  is  written  upon 
mv  heart  in  words  of  fire!" 

«  Poor  child !  poor  child !  sorrow  has  given  you  strange 
thoughts,"  said  Mr.  Pierce.. 

"Let  him  rest !  let  him  rest !"  she  murmured,  entreat- 
incrlv  "  It  needs  no  marble  slab  to  point  out  to  me  the 
spot  where  he  lies.  When  I,  too,  am  there  'twill  be  time 
enough  for  the  record  to  be  given  to  the  world. 

IkMiding  forward,  Mr.  Pierce  pressed  his  lips  upon  her 
pure  uplifted  brow,  whispered, "  All  shall  be  as  you  wish, 
and  hastily  left  the  room. 


II 

b: 

hi 

m 

}iu 

lei 
sal 
exi 


ha< 
a  t( 
]iu 
onl 
He 
wh( 
a  s] 
lost 
thai 

Aid 

a 

had 
her 
foul 
It  is 


um-iiii;  up  with  an 

|iititiiliu>Bt«. 

hcttil,  ttijd  wept  likt' 

1(1,  vt-ry  sorrowfully. 

my  pri'KiHce,  I  uuj 
>  your  thoughts.     1 

irt'ctid,  and  thcu  I 
rricf." 

■  heart,  tjuickly,  while 
itnictetl  her  IVatureH. 
"  It  irt  nothing,"  »^^*-' 
iry.     "  Hear  with  mo 

fed  her  to  proceed, 
grave,"  she  Huid,  soft- 
is.  I  would  not  see  it 
i  rises  beside  his,  then 
ace  where  we  repose, 
led  till  then.  Choose 
them  be   erected  to- 

rise. 

[>d.  "Oh!  how  could 
!  and  read  each' time 
li  that  is  written  upon 

has  given  you  strange 

le  murmured,  entreat- 
to  point  out  to  me  the 
ira  there  'twill  be  time 
to  the  world." 
essed  his  lips  upon  her 
1  shall  be  as  you  wish," 


ALDEAfTE. 


2«i; 


Tenrs  l,li„.l..,l  his  eyes,  an.l  he  stumbled  over  AMca..,. 
lu  the  hall  before  he  saw  h.r. 

blinl  v,'!;,'""'  '""'''""'  •"^'''*'" ■"''"•'*' !"  '""  -''i'J.  i»  «  trem- 
"  It  is  granted,  with  j.leasure,"  she  r.-pli.-d,  L,'!a.ui„,r  „t 

she  added,  pereeivm-  his  a-itation. 

"  Ves,"  he  answered,  with  a  sigh.  "  (i.,,!  grant  that  I 
may  never  have  anolluT  s„..h  interview  with  anyone! 
AValk  with  me  „.  ,h..  ^,,.1,..  a  few  minutes,  I  bJg  Ft 
Jias  completely  unmanned  me." 

Aldeane  took  his  arm,  an,i  they  turned  into  the  walk 

eading  to  the  great  oak-tree.     When  they  reached  it,  ho 

cMy-^  "'•"--"t^'l  H-U  at  its  base,  an.l  s^lid, 

"  She  is  dying.  Miss  Guthrie!  dyinrr   I  say'" 
"  I  fear  so,  indeed  !"  she  returned,  sadly 

b»'i  {  ""'Tr.  ''''.'  "''*''"^  ^^'-  ^^''^^'•^■^''  ^'"Phatically.  "  I 
had  hoped  that  her  distress  was  but  the  natural  grief  that 
a  tender  young  g.rl  would  feel  at  the  death  of  her  lover 
JJut  .t  IS  lar  more,  far  more!  Raymond  j.ossessed  not 
only  her  heart,  but  a  strong  influence  over  her  very  bein.^ 
lie  ha.I  become  her  life,  the  support  of  her  existence; 
when  he  djed-morally  s,)eaking-8he  die<l  also. « ScarcJ 
u  spark  of  hfe  anmmtes  her  feeble  body,  an.l  her  nund  has 

hn.  ^^    .1    T\:    ^^''  '■'"  *''"'•'  "*■  '^"^  "»''  thing,  and 
that.  Death,     ^otlung  seems  to  arouse  her  " 

"And  do  you  think  that  she  will  so.m  die?"  asked 
Aldeane,  weeping.  "May  she  not  linger  eve.i  for  years y" 
iNoino!  he  answered,  sorrowfully.  "  If  Raymond 
had  hved  she  might  have  been  spared,  for  the  excess  of 
her  love  for  lum  would  have  made  her  happy,  and  that 
foul  specter  Consumption  might  have  sought  her  in  vain 
It  IS  not  that,  even  now,  that  is  killing  her." 

1^' Not  const   .iption?"  ejaculated  Aldeane. 

"No,"   he  answered,  quietly.      "She  is   dying  of  a 


268 


ALDEANE. 


Iirolion  heart.  Yoit  may  all  call  it  consumption,  but  I 
say  that  she  would  have  lived  free  from  it  for  years  hud 
not  sorrow  opened  the  way  for  its  approach,  and  tram- 
pled upon  her  heart  as  its  iirst  ivsting-place." 

"And  do  you  think  that  she  would  have  been  happy 
if  George  Ravmond  had  lived  ?" 

"Yes.  Slie  would  have  trusted  him  so  implicitly, 
that  she  would  have  seen  all  his  better  qualities  only, 
and  by  her  influence  called  them  into  action ;  his  strange 
spirit  would  have  been  quelled  by  her  gentleness, 
and  his  passions  calmed  by  her  love.  He,  perhaps, 
would  never  have  been  perfectly  happy.  His  was  too 
stormy  a  soul  to  know  aught  of  so  quiet  a  guest,  but  she 
would  have  rested  as  calmly  and  confidingly  upon  his 
bosom  as  the  moss  on  the  foaming  sea,  knowing  no  dan- 
ger and  fearing  none,  and  loving  imi)licitly  through  life, 
would  have  fallen  asleep,  smiling,  at  its  close." 

Aldeauc  sighed  deeply,  then  burst  into  a  convulsive  fit 
of  weeping  that  agitated  her  fearfidly.  This  was  so  un- 
expected that  Mr.  Pierce  could  but  gaze  upon  her  in 
grave  surprise.  Sobs  shook  her  frame,  and  the  few  tears 
that  strayed  over  her  cheeks  seemed  wrung  from  her  very 
heart.  It  was  not  often  that  Aldeane  wept,  but  when 
she  did  it  always  appeared  to  relieve  her  feelings.  Noav 
it  had  a  contrary  ettect.  Her  sobs  nearly  choked  her,  and 
her  heart  seemed  bursting  with  wild  pain. 

"I  can  not  \mdcrstand  this.  Miss  Guthrie,"  said  Mr. 
Pierce  at  last,  in  a  low  voice.  "This  is  so  different  from 
your  usual  manner.     It  is  perfectly  incomprehensible." 

"  Ah,  if  you  knew  all !"  gasped  Aldeane.  "  If  you 
knew  all,  you  would  no  longer  wonder  at  me !" 

"Tell  me  all,"  he  said  gently.  Aldeane  drew  away 
the  hand  that  he  had  grasped  in  his  earnestness.  "  For 
your  own  sake,"  he  added  reproachfully.  "  Do  I  de- 
serve this  distrust?  Can  you  not  place  confidence  in 
me?" 


1 

H 
C 

8' 
k 

g 

P 
AV 

ei 
A 
b( 


hi 
d( 
ki 
el( 
at 
Tl 
ha 
thi 
Pc 
nei 
re£ 
alt 

Kp; 

< 

an( 

"S 
W! 


1 


AIDE  AN  E. 


209 


consumption,  but  I 

im  it  for  years  hud 

wroach,  and  tnun- 

-place." 

I  have  been  happy 

him  so  implicitly, 
ttcr  qualities  only, 
action ;  his  strange 
y  her  gentleness, 
)ve.  He,  perhaps, 
ppy.  His  was  too 
iet  a  guest,  but  she 
)nfidingly  upon  his 
a,  knowing  no  dan- 
)licitly  through  life, 
its  close." 

into  a  convulsive  fit 
ly.  This  was  so  un- 
;  gaze  upon  her  in 
e,  and  the  few  tears 
ivrung  from  her  very 
ane  wept,  but  when 
her  feelings.  Now 
arly  choked  her,  and 
pain. 

1  Guthrie,"  said  Mr. 
I  is  so  diiFerent  from 
ncomprehensible." 
Aldeane.  "If  you 
er  at  me !" 
Aldeane  drew  away 
1  earnestness.  "  For 
ihfully.  "Do  I  de- 
place  confidence  in 


"I  have  never  tried  you,"  she  replied  simply.  "  iJi.t 
indeed,  Mr.  Pierce,  I  have  need  of  all  your  counsel  and 
sympathy  for  the  unhappy  part  I  took  in  the  unfortunate 
events  that  have  lately  transpired." 

"  Poor  child,"  said  Mr.  Pierce,  as  another  gush  of  wild 
sobbing  racked  her  frame.  "I  pity  you,  indeed!  I 
know  that  you  have  suffered,  and  do  still.  Tell  me  your 
griefs,  my  child.     Poriiaps  I  can  soothe  you  a  little." 

When  partly  composed,  Aldeane  related  the  greater 
portion  of  the  memorable  conversation  that  she  had  held 
with  George  Raymond  a  tev,^  days  before  his  death- 
ending  with  the  bitter  cry, "  Oh,  if  I  had  but  told  Colonel 
Arendell  al!  I  suspected,  his  life  and  hers  might  have 
been  saved  !" 

^^  "  Xot  so,"  said  Mr.  Pierce,  atler  a  few  moments'  thought, 
"  not  so.     Raymond  would  have  been  perfectly  furious' 
had  his  secret  been  betrayed.     No  one  knows  what  rash 
deed  he  might  have  been  led  to  commit.     He  mi<»ht  have 
killed  Colonel  Arendell,  oi;  himself,  or  even  his  bride 
elect;  for  you  say  yourself  that  his  reason  forsook  him 
at  the  mention  of  liis  wrongs,  whether  real  or  fancied. 
Ihink  what  a  blow  the  knowledsje  of  his  birth  would 
have  been  to  Leonore.     His  death  has  shaken  her  reason, 
that  revelation  I  believe  Avould  have  dethroned  it  forever. 
Poor  drooping  lily,  it  will  soon  bloom  in  heaven  1     You 
need  not  weep  over  your  reticence.  Miss  Aldeane,  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that  even  worse  calamities  than  have 
already  befallen  the  family,  were  averted  by  it." 

Aldeane  was  slightly  comforted.  "  If  'she  could  be 
spared !"  she  munnured. 

"  The  fairest  tiowers  are  those  fragile  ones  that  bloom 
and  die  in  spring-time,"  said  Mr.  Pierce,  musingly. 

•' Spring-time  !"  repeated  Air  sane,  shuddering. 
"  Spring-time  !  Ah,  how  dreary  a  one  this  has  been  I 
Wliat  will  the  next  bring  forth  ?" 

Mr.  Pierce,  responded  in  low  tones:— • 


1 


2Y0  ALDEAKE. 

"  Anotuer  little  grave  shall  be, 
Beneath  the  willo^T-tree, 
The  sun  shall  tinge  it,  with  its  gold,        ^^ 
And  sweetest  flowers  shall  there  unfold. 

He  walked  slowly  away,  while  Aldeane  remained  to 
weep  more  ealmly,  and  to  watch  with  agonized  sohcitule 
a  little  white-robed  tignre  that  was  sitting  at  one  of  the 
upper  windows,  looking  drearily,  and  with  an  air  ot 
fixed  melancholy,  out  npon  the  scene  below.     Her  large 
brown  eyes  shone  strangely  unt  irom  the  mass  ot  .^avy 
hair  han-ring  around  her  bloodless  cheeks.     An  expres- 
;in  of  d^ep'pain  rested  on  her  lips,  while  one  ot  earn 
resignation  gave  to  the  face  an  appearance  ot   almos 
Jiigelic  swe;t.,ess.     She  seemed  not  to  be  thinkmg,  but 
rather  as  if  patiently  waiting  for  some  one  to  come- 
one  whose  form  she  could  never  more  hope  to  see;  as  if 
Ust;l-  for  a  footstep  that  no  more  should  greet  her  long- 
niear.''   She  was  twining  her  white  hands  together  m  a 
strange  nervous  manner  she  had  lately  assumed.     Sitting 
Lre^^in  the  dying  light  of  the  day   L— ^/^f  f  J 
seemed  indeed  but  a  wreck  of  her  fo-'^^^.^^^' f  iJ  ^J" 
deane  once  more  wept  passionately  crying  bitte   y,     Oh, 
if  she  could  be  spared  !  if  she  could  be  spared !      Loo- 
L  up  atler  such  an  outburst  of  grief,  she  perceived  that 
dayUght  had  taded,  and  a  moonless  night  set  m.     Gro^ 
fng  her  way  back  to  the  house,  she  heard  her  name  called 
n  hu^ied  Les.     Mrs.  Arendell  met  her  in  the  hall,  and 
The  Ugit  she  held  in  her  hand  revealed  Aldeane,  pale  and 

''«  A^ how  you  frightened  me!"  exclaimed  Mrs  Aren- 

dellld^hastlrt.     "Where  have  you  been?    We  have 

been  seeking  y^u  ever  bo  long."  ,.   i  •    » 

"I  have  been  down  by  the  great  oak,"  she  replied  in  a 

°«  Whatl  so  near,  and  you  have  not  heard  us  calling 


y 

ii: 
le 

Sil 

w 

lei 
A 

cl< 
foi 
mi 
en 

8ti 

yo 

of 
vo 

if 

str 
wii 
yoi 
mil 
yoi 

Bel 
I  h 

spe 
Ih 

syii 

tha 

eitl 
(( 

and 
our 
In  s 


AIDE  AXE. 


271 


;old, 

)  unfold." 

Ideane  remained  to 
I  agonized  solicitude 
sitting  at  one  of  the 
md  with  an  air  of 
B  below.     Her  large 
m  the  mass  of  wavy- 
checks.     An  expres- 
s,  while  one  of  calm 
[ipcarancc  of  almost 
t  to  be  thinking,  but 
iome  one  to  come — 
re  hope  to  see;  as  if 
fihould  greet  her  long- 
e  hands  together  in  a 
ely  assumed.     Sittmg 
ly,  Leonorc  Arendell 
L-  former  self,  and  Al- 
crying  bitterly,  "  Oh, 
d  be  spared !"     Loca- 
ief,  she  perceived  that 
}  night  set  in.     Grop- 
heard  her  name  called 
let  her  in  the  hall,  and 
aled  Aldeane,  pale  and 

exclaimed  Mrs,  Aren- 
you  been  ?    We  have 

;  oak,"  she  replied  in  a 

B  not  heard  us  calling 


you  ?     There  are  a  couple  of  letters  for  you,  but  i-ome 
into  tea  first." 

She  hastil--  excused  herself,  and  taking  the  light  and 
letters,  n-,  ended  to  her  room.  Putting  them  down  she 
sat  for  a  long  time  lost  in  thought.  At  last  raising  her 
eyes,  she  saw  the  superscription  of  one  of  the  letters.  It 
was  from  Arthur,  and  with  a  sigh  she  broke  the  seal. 

"Dearest    /lldeane,"    it   commenced.      "From    your 
letters  T  perceive  that  darkness  is  still  brooding  over 
Arendell  House ;  and  T  fear  is  enshrouding  you  all  too 
closelJ^     I  wish  I  could  prevail  upon  you  to'come  North  ; 
for  I  believe  you  can  do  no  one  any  good,  and  yourself 
much  harm,  by  remaining  South.     I  know  that  your  pres- 
ence must  bo  a  great  comfort  to  your  afflicted  friends, 
still  that  must  be  swallowed  up  in  their  sorrow  at  seeinof' 
you  droop  beneath  their  cares.     And  this  from  the  tone 
of  your  letters  I  know,  Aldeane,  you  are  doing.     I  beg  oi 
you  to  come  to  us  noio,  when  the  appointed  time  arrfves 
I  fear  your  health  will  have  failed— for  I  know  that  those 
strange  events  that  have  lately  taken  place  have  made 
wide  inroa<ls  upon  your  liappiness,  and  I  presume  also 
your  bodily  welfare.      Then  come  to  us  now.      Belle 
mingles  her  entreaties  with  mine.     We  long  to  greet 
you.     Do  nor  disappoint  us. 

"  You  speak  joyfully  of  my  happuiess.  You  know,  while 
Belle  is  near  me  I  can  never  know  misery.  Yet  recently 
I  havs  had  manv  things  to  cause  mo  anxiety.  I  do  not 
speak  of  this  to  .dd  to  your  care,  my  sister,  but  because 
I  have  always  confided  in  you,  and  trusted  to  you  for 
sympathy  and  co-  sel.  But  indeed  I  hope  and  believe 
that  this  matter  is  not  of  suflicient  importance  to  cause 
either  of  us  any  anxiety. 

"  You  are  aware  with  what  fair  prospects  Halcombe 
and  I  entered  upon  our  career,  and  how  much  confidence 
our  numerous  friends  and  acquaintances  reposed  in  us. 
In  some  way  that  confidence  has  been  shaken.     Altliough 


272 


ALDEANE. 


I  have  not  before  mentioned  it  to  yon,  I  have  observe.-,  it 
o«  time  past,  but  thonght  ^^^^^^^^, 
I  can  not  but  feci  that  it  is  nKlced  reahtj.  One  ..t  on 
most  Trnportant  clients,  without  giving  any  reaso,,  and 
S  c lelv  an  apology,  has  taken  his  ^--^ J-- 
our  hands,  a  id  placed  it  in  that  of  others.  Another  ha 
Tnified  his  intJntion  of  dou,g  so,  while  many  seem  cold 
n°tl  e'v  greetings,  and  cast  upon  us  suspicious  glance  . 

h    has  becomel  stock-broker.     We  were  m..takcn,  Al- 
Sal;:,  when  we  supposed  him  to  be  a  ^^^^^^ 
farmer.     He  is,  in  reality,  well  educated,  t^-.ti  one  ot  the 
morcunninc.  U  vile  of  men.     He  has  been  acting  a 
?rc  part  for"  years,  although  he  has  ,.ever  been  able  to 
tce'alhis  balenes;.     He  has  apP-.-edJo  us,  to  ha^^^^^^^^ 
other  ambition  th^itl^a^umu^a^-;^^^^^^^ 
mpvp  pleasure  ot  hoarmng  u.     ^^^^^ 
Sing  but  display.     He  boards  at  the  mo.t  tashionable 
hotel  in  Boston,  and  is  having  the  tarin-noase  fitted  up 
beautifully  for    he  reception  of  his  visitors  during  the 
Bimmer      >u.  :.,  indeed,  a  perfectly  changed  man.     In 
hrSo,;.H  ,  Attired,  polite  Mr.  Nevins  of  Boston,  y«u 
Wd  La  It  almost  impossible  to  recognize  the  uncouth, 
surly  Jonas  Nevins  of  the  hiountain-tarm 

"We  have  met  in  the  streets  a  few  times,  and  he  has 
bowed  to  me,  smiling  maliciously,  as  if  certain  that  he 
held  me  in  hi^  powen  My  passion  is  -.S-'^V^  -ch 
Ses,  that  it  is  with  difficulty  I  can  restram  myself  from 

^'^llSng  the  difficulty  to  the  same  source  as  I  do,  Mr. 
Ashton  affecfs  to  kugb  at  it,  though  I  can  readdy  per- 


cei 
bee 

ind 
yet 
ter 
sue 

ful 
tha 
sag 
yov 
but 
she 
to  ; 
this 
any 

thai 
in  i< 
not) 
and 
thof 
not! 

the 

t( 

mer, 

mos 

fell 

Sine 

prof 

only 

bles! 

arou 

that 

appa 

only 


ALDEAXE, 


273 


tt,  I  have  observed  it 
ere  fancy  ;  but  now 
reality.     One  »;f  our 
i'incj  any  reasoi  ,  and 
;ii  iuH  business  from 
)thers.     Another  has 
t-hile  many  seem  cold 
,s  suspicious  glances. 
( undeniable,  are  ttoat- 
al  to  be  contradicted, 
my  against  us.     I  can 
refer  it  all  to  the  im- 
I  have  written  to  you 
in  Boston  now,  since 
e  were  mistaken,  Al- 
le  a  mi«?r!y,  ignorant 
icated,  ft'.id  one  of  the 
[e  has  been  acting  a 
IS  iv'ver  been  able  to 
lared  to  us,  to  have  no 
tiou  of  money,  for  the 
w  ho  s.-enis  to  care  for 
,t  tilt  most  fashionable 
e  tarin-house  fitted  up 
is  visitors  during  the 
tly  changed  man.     In 
Nevins  of  Boston,  you 
recognize  the  uncouth, 
in-farm. 

1  few  times,  and  be  has 
r,  as  if  certain  that  he 
on  is  so  great,  at  such 
an  restrain  myself  from 

same  source  as  I  do,  Mr. 
ugh  I  can  readily  per- 


ceive that  it  troubles  him.  As  for  Chester  lialcombe,  he 
becomes  sometimes  almost  discouraged,  at  others  vastly 
indignant.  lie  has  not  lost  one  jarticle  of  his  faith  in  me, 
yet  I  know  that  he  sometimes  wishes  that  we  had  not  en- 
tered into  partnership,  though  he  has  not  even  insinuated 
such  a  thing  to  mc. 

"  I  was  out  to  the  cottage  yesterday  ;  Belle  is  as  beauti- 
ful as  ever,  and  appears  to  love  me  with  the  devotedness 
that  I  do  her,  Slie  intrusted  me  with  a  variety  of  -nes- 
sages  for  you.  It  is  by  her  advice  that  I  have  written  to 
you  of  my  little  trouble ;  knowing  hoM'  much  you  are 
burdened  with  the  afflicticns  of  those  that  are  with  you, 
she  had  not  the  heart  to  add  even  the  weight  of  a  feather 
to  your  lOad  of  cares.  Yet  she  wished  you  to  know  of 
this,  in  order  that  you  might  be  prepared  for  it,  should 
any  thing  untoward  result  from  it. 

"The  house  on Street  is  nearly  completed ;  I  pray 

that  nothing  may  prevent  us  from  taking  up  our  abode 
in  it  at  the  appointed  time.  Belle  says,  trustingly,  that 
nothing  shall ;  but  I  am  sometimes  oppressed  by  doubts 
and  fears,  although  I  firmly  believe  that  I  can  outlive 
those  vague  and  baseless  slanders,  and  I  assure  you 
nothing  would  give  me  more  joy  than  to  triumph  over 
the  diabolical  hatred  and  persecutions  of  Jonas  Nevins. 

"  Frederic  Morgan  and  his  wife  are  at  home  this  sum- 
mer. Her  health  is  very  delicate,  and  I  fear  that  Fred's 
most  tender  solicitude  will  not  stay  the  ravages  of  that 
fell  disease  which  has  long  been  preying  upon  her. 
Since  his  marriage,  he  has  followed  the  practice  of  his 
profession  assiduously,  seeming  never  to  tire,  happy 
only  when  exertuig  his  powers  to  the  utmost.  The  poor 
bless  him,  and  the  rich  will  trust  no  other,  for  miles 
around.  He  has  lost  much  of  the  gay  elasticity  of  spirit 
that  distirgaished  him  in  his  bachelor  days,  and  although 
apparently  cheerful,  a  shadow  hangs  over  his  heart,  seen 
only  by  his  nearest  friends,  such  as  I  have  the  honor  to 
12* 


Jl 


274 


ALDEANE. 


1,0  Terhapa  it  is  his  wife's  constant  sickness  that  op- 
v,n-Bses  him;  whatever  is  the  cause,  he  is  sadly  changed. 
"  Mlie  acrain  I  say  come  to  us!  Write  iinmediately 
.vhen  I  may"  raeet  you  in  New  York.  Come  to  your  lov- 
ing Belle,  and  your  anxious  and  aflfectionate  brother. 

"Arthur  Guthrie." 

A  new  sorrow  darted  into  Aldeane's  heart,  and  rankled 
there  as  she  read  this  epistle.     It  filled  her  with  alarm. 
She  doubted  not  but  that  Nevins  was  bent  upon  Arthur  s 
destruction,  and  she  feared  much  the  result  of  his  machi- 
nations;  she  longed  to  fly  to  him  at  once  to  shield  him 
from  his  enemy,  and  she  thought  with  wrathful  impa- 
tience how  little  her  efforts  would  avail.     "  bhall  I  go  or 
not  "  was  the  perplexing  question  that  haunted  her.    bhe 
heard  a  soft  footfall  on  the  stairs,  and  thought  of  Leonore. 
"  Ah,  I  can  not  leave  her !"  she  cried  ;  "  to  her  I  can  be 
some  comfort,  but  to  him  I  can  do  no  good."     And  after 
an  hour  spent  in  tearful  thought,  she  answered  Ax-thur  s 
letter  as  she  )nd  one  of  Belle's  before,  spying,  that  though 
her  inclination.,  bade  her  hasten  to  the  North,  her  duty 
held  her  South,  and  there  she  would  stay  till  Leonore 
ralUed  from  her  grief,  or  yielding  to  it,  died.     It  was  hard 
thus  to  write,  and  her  resolution  almost  failed  her,  when 
she  fancied  she  heard  a  slight  noise  in  Leonore's  room 
Catching  up  the  light,  she  hastily  sped  thither,  and  found 
every  thing  perfectly  quiet.     She  had  been  unnecessanly 
alanned,  but  she  could  not  go  without  one  look  at  the 
object  of  her  solicitude.     She  lay  upon  the  bed  so  co  dly 
pale,  that  but  for  a  slight  quivering  motion  of  the  lips, 
as  her  breath  parted  them,  her  tranquil  sleep  might  have 
been  taken  for  death.     A  reflection,  rather  than  stamp  of 
pain  seated  upon  her  features,  while  a  sigh  gently  parted 
her  lips.     Aldeane  bent  to  press  a  kiss  upon  the  waxen 
brow,  and  to  smooth  her  dark  hair  back,  when  she  heard 
the  eagerlv  whispered  word,  "George!  George!     as  if 


tl 
tl 

t( 
cl 
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tlu 
wc 

N( 


ALDEANE. 


275 


nt  Bickness  that  op- 
he  is  sadly  changed. 

Write  immediately 
Come  to  your  lov- 
ctionate  brother. 

Artuuk  Guthbik." 

's  heart,  and  rankled 
llled  her  with  alarm. 
9  bent  upon  Arthur's 
e  result  of  his  machi- 
it  once  to  shield  him 
with  wrathful  impa- 
vail.  "  Shall  I  go  or 
lat  haunted  her.  She 
i  thought  of  Leonore, 
id ;  "  to  her  I  can  be 
no  good."  And  after 
he  answered  Arthur's 
•c,  sl  ying,  that  though 

the  North,  her  duty 
uld  stay  till  Leonore 

it,  died.  It  was  hard 
most  failed  her,  when 
se  in  Leonore's  room, 
ped  thither,  and  found 
lad  been  unnecessarily 
thout  one  look  at  the 
ipon  the  bed  so  coldly 
ing  motion  of  the  lips, 
iquil  sleep  might  have 
1,  rather  than  stamp  of 
e  a  sigh  gently  parted 
I  kiss  upon  the  waxen 
:  back,  when  she  heard 
lorge!  George!"  as  if 


the  soul  of  the  young  dreamer  were  in  communion  with 
that  of  her  lover. 

With  a  sigh,  Aldeane  returned  to  her  chamber,  and 
to  the  completion  of  her  letter.     Ere  it  was  finished  the 
clock  struck  twelve,  and  soon  afterward  she  lay  down  to 
sleep  restlessly  till  morning.     At  its  approach  she  arose, 
and  descended  to  the  garden,  to  seek  in  the  fresli  air 
that  repose  of  spirit  whicJi  the  night  had  failed  to  bring. 
Gradually  it  came,  and  her  mind,  losing  much  of  the 
care  that  had  lately  weigh  yd  upon  it,  turned  with  delight 
to  the  beauty  that  lay  b'lthed  in  dew,  sparkling  in  the 
early   sunbeams.      Even   before   the   tempest   that   had 
swept  half  its  arbors  and  trellisses  away,  the  garden  had 
never  looked  more  beautiful  than  now.     Pursuing  her  fa- 
vorite walk  to  the  oak-tree.     Aldeane  looked  with  quiet 
pleasure  around  her.     She  thought  of  the  first  morning, 
and  how  much  had  since  then  transpired.     Jessie,  with  a 
laughing  "  Good-morning,  Miss  Aldeane,"  ran  by  her  to 
join  the  boys,  whose  merry  voices  were  heard  in  the 
distance.      Then    all    was    silent,   and    Aldeane    again 
relapsed  into  reverie.     As  she  approached  the  oak,  she 
Avas  startled  by  a  voice  saying  cheerily : — 

"Ah,  Miss  Guthrie,  you  are  an  early  riser  like  myself, 
I  see ;  and  as  fond,  too,  of  this  shady  path  !" 

Turning,  she  beheld  Mr.  Pierce  advancing  toward  her. 
"  How  are  you  to-day  ?"  he  asked,  clasping  her  hand,  and 
and  looking  at  her  anxiously ;  "  you  have  passed  a  sleep- 
less night,  I  fear.     W^hy  will  you  worry  so  ?" 

"  You  are  mistaken,  Mr.  Pierce,  I  have  slept  well,"  she 
answered  with  a  faint  smile. 

"Perhaps  so — for  you,"  he  answered.  "But  it  is 
perfectly  unnatural  that  one  so  young,  should  toss  and 
dream  all  night,  to  wake  at  morning,  only  to  brood  over 
the  sorn-ws  of  others  throughout  the  day.  A  change 
would  do  you  good.  Miss  Guthrie.  I  must  take  you  away 
North  with  me.     Will  you  go  ?" 


276 


ALDEANE. 


She  shook  her  head  sadly.  ,      ,<  .  „. 

"Eh.     Why  not,  now?"  he  persisted.     "  Are  you  not 

going  a  few  months  later,  and  for  the  sake  of  my  escort, 
will  you  not  hurry  the  time  a  httlo?" 

«  Say  nothing  about  it.     Indeed,  I  don't  know  that  I 
shall  CO  at  all,  Mr.  Pierce." 

"Not  at  all'.."  he  repeated.  "Nonsense,  you  shall  go 
You  are  getting  as  white  and  tlnn  as  Lconore  1  Do  you 
want  o  die  wfth  her?  You  shall  not  at  any  rate,  you 
Z  go  North  with  me !  There  is  Mrs.  Arendell  on  he 
piazza  now,  I  will  speak  to  her  about  it  tins  moment 
^He  started  away;  but  Aldeane's  hand,  laid  firmly, 
though  gently  upon  his  arm,  detamed  hira. 

«Dor?t  sav  any  thing  to  her  about  it      r.\-««/- ^ 
she  pleaded,"  "I  can  not  go  now,  but  I  think  I  will  m 
December ;   but  I  can  not  leave  them  all  now,  even 
Colonel  Arendell  would  miss  me  sadly. 

"He  could   not   do  without    you!"    exclaimed  Mr. 
Pierce,  looking  at  her  admiringly.     "  He  told  me  yester- 
day that  you  and  his  good  wife  are  his  only  comforters 
and  that  if  either  were  taken  away,  he  shou  d  be  entirely 
prostrated.      But   I   forget!    I    am  injuring  my  own 

^'^"Not  at  all!"  replied  she,  "I  could  never  consent  to 

leave  them  now."  ^         ,        *ij„„„„i 

"Promise  me,  that  you  will  in  December,  Aldeane ! 

It  distresses  me  beyond  measure,  to  see  you  so  careworn 

and  ;)ale.    Come,  promise  me  !" 

"/can  not,  indeed!"  sha  answered.     "Yo«  know  that 

I  will  go  to  my  brother's  wedding  if  it  is  possible  to  do 

80 ;  but  not  if  Leonore  needs  my  company  as  much  as 

""itlT/.  noble  girl,"  cried  Mr.  Pierce,  earnestly. 
«  Will  YOU  do  one  thing  that  1  ask  of  you  ?" 
-    «  A  dozen  if  compatible  with  my  duty,"  she  replied. 
"Oh;  this  is  nothing  to  interfere  with  it!    Will  you 


ted.     "  Are  you  not 
B  sake  of  ray  escort, 

[  don't  know  that  I 

nsense,  you  shall  go ! 
8  Leonorc  1  Do  you 
not  at  any  rate,  you 
Mrs.  ArendcU  on  the 
t  it  this  moment." 
'8  hand,  laid  firmly, 
id  him. 

t  it !  riease  don't  1" 
ut  I  think  I  will  in 
them  all  now,  even 

lly." 

ou!"  exclaimed  Mr. 
"  He  told  me  yester- 
;  his  only  comforters, 
he  should  be  entirely 
tn  injuring   my   own 

ould  never  consent  to 

1  December,  Aldeane ! 
0  see  you  so  careworn 

ed.  "  You  know  that 
if  it  is  possible  to  do 
'  company  as  much  as 

Mr.  Pierce,  earnestly, 
of  you?" 

'  duty,"  she  replied. 
:e  with  it!    Will  you 


A LDEANE 


277 


write  to  me  when  I  am  gone  to  let  mo  know  tlie  end  of 
all  this?  You  can  not  Avonder  that  I  am  deeply  in- 
terested." ' 

"I  will  let  you  know  all  that  transpires,"  she  answered 
readily.     "  When  do  you  expect  to  leavt>  us  ?"    » 

Within  two  days.  I  have  in  fact  nothing  to  stay  for 
I  shall  remain  in  New  York  a  week  «,r  two,  to  have  poor 
Jiaymond's  monument,  wliich  I  liave  already  ordered 
finished,  and  also,  according  to  the  wish  of  Leonore,  I 
shall  have  it  safely  Htored  there,  to  remain  until  sent  for 
It  almost  kills  me  to  think  that  that  fair  child  mu^t 
die." 

The  breakfast-bell  was  sounded,  and  turning,  they 
wont  silently  back  to  the  house, 

"Oh,  mamma!"  they  heard  Jessie  exclaim,  as  they 
entered  the  dining-room.  "Mr.  Pierce  is  going  away  in 
a  day  or  two  I  heard  him  tell  Miss  Aldeane  so  in  the 
garden  this  morning." 

1^'  When,  little  eavesdropper  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Arendell. 
"  Just  a  minute  ago.     I  was  going  to  speak  to  her,  but 
she  didn't  notice  me,  and  I  heard  them  talkin<r  about 
sister  Nora,  and  Mr.  Kayraond,  and—"  ° 

"Jessie!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Arendell,  while  Leonore 
turned  deadly  pale.  "Jessie!"  and  catching  the  fright- 
ened <;hild  in  her  arms,  she  carried  her  screaming  from 
th(!  room.  Frank  and  Eddie  looked  on  in  surprise,  and 
Colonel  Arendell  looked  at  them  helplessly,  trembling 
from  head  to  foot,  as  since  his  illness  he  always  did  at 
the  slightest  excitement.  Leonore  clutched  the  table- 
cloth nervously  with  both  hands,  and  presently  asked 
faintly : — 

"  Are  you,  indeed,  going  so  soon,  Mr.  Pierce  ?" 
"  I  am.  Miss  Arendell,"  he  replied. 
^'And— "  she  began,  with  a  painfully  anxious  look. 
"Do  not  distress  yourself.  Miss  Arendell,  your  wishes 
ishall  be  respected  in  all  things," 


278 


ALDKANE. 


A  smile  of  thankfulness  illiimiiiptl  hor  face  for  a 
moment,  then  loft  it  as  gravt-  and  pale  as  before. 

^Irs.  ArcndcU  diil  not  aijain  appear,  ami  a  languid 
conversation  was  kept  np  between  iMr.  Pierce,  Aldeanc, 
und  Frank,  and  when  tlu-y  arose  from  tlie  table  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  relief  thiU  each  turned  away  to  tluir 
wonted  avoeations. 

The  day  following,  Mr.  Pierce  took  his  departure. 
Aldeano  watehed  him  from  her  window,  as  far  as  the 
bend  of  the  road,  with  a  strange  feeling  of  desolation 
and  oi)pression,  as  it"  she  had  a  difficult,  and  weary  task 
to  perform,  and  him  on  whom  she  most  relied  for  assist- 
ance and  support  was  taken  from  her.  Unconsciously 
hhe  had  come  to  rely  upon  his  judgment,  and  found 
comfort  in  his  sympathy.  But  not  long  could  she 
irdulge  such  thought.  Throwing  lier  arms  around 
her  neck,  and  bursting  into  tears,  Leonorc  exclaimed  in 
an  agonized  voice : — 

"He  is  gonel  ho  is  gone!  Even  hia  friends  desert 
me!" 

"No;  not  all!"  replied  Aldeane,  soothingly.  "You 
forget,  Leonore,  that  I  am  still  with  you,  and  I  was  hia 
friend." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  was  with  him  I  I  wish  I  was  with  him !" 
with  a  fresh  burst  of  sobs,  was  her  only  reply. 

"  Leonore !  Leonore  1"  said  Aldeane,  in  as  stern  a  voice 
as  she  could  use  to  her.  "  You  are  wicked — you  forget 
that  God  will  take  you  in  his  own  good  timo.  You 
ought  rather  to  pray  to  liv«  to  be  a  blessing  to  those 
who  love  you  so  well." 

"  Ah,  it  will  be  better  for  all  when  I  am  gone !"  she 
answered,  mournfully.  "  Do  not  wish  me  to  live,  AUie. 
You  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  have  your  brimming  cup 
of  love  dashed  from  your  lips,  and  one  filled  with  the 
very  dregs  of  bitterness  and  woe  to  quaff  instead." 

"Alas !  I  know  too  well,"  thought  Aldeane,  but  she 


oi 
lo 

fii 

UI 

to 

w 

all 

))e 

Sh 

all 

th( 

tw 

eyi 

ift 

by 

lik( 

bee 

1 

anc 

hea 

col< 

ing 

Aid 
<i 

min 
life 


led  her  face  for  a 
e  as  before, 
lear,  iuid  a  languid 
Ir.  Pierce,  Aldeanc, 
.m  the  table  it  was 
rned  away  to  their 

ook  hia  departure, 
iidow,  as  far  as  the 
i?eliiig  of  desolation 
ult,  and  weary  task 
lost  relied  for  assist- 
her.  Unconsciously 
idgment,  and  found 
ot  long  could  she 
her  arms  around 
Eonorc  exclaimed  in 

II  his  friends  desert 

soothingly.     "  You 
you,  and  I  was  hia 

ish  I  was  with  him  I" 

ily  reply. 

le,  in  as  stern  a  voice 

wicked — you  forget 
'M  good  timo.     You 

a  blessing  to  those 

;n  I  am  gone!"  she 
sh  me  to  live,  AUie. 
!  your  brimming  cup 
L  one  filled  with  the 
quaff  instead." 
bt  Aldeane,  but  she 


AIDE  A  NE. 


279 


only  said,  "Will  nothinj;  comfort  or  arouse  vou  ?  ('..me- 
ot  ns  walk  in  the  garden,  some  of  the  paths  are  beauti^ 
fill  and  shady  to-day." 

She   arose   and    went,  just   as   she   did   every  thin.' 
uncomplainingly,  unon  joyi„n;|y.      A  sort  of  stupor  seenu"! 
to  have   H.-.zed   upon   her  faculties.     She   was   alive   to 
nothing   but   her  sorrows,   an.l    they   seemed  to    have 
almost  era-ced  her  mind.     A  wreck  of  what  she  once  ha.l 
been,  she  seemed  patiently  to  await  her  final  dissolution 
She  remained  constantly  with  Aldeane,  shunninir  almost 
all  other  company.     She  would  sit  for  hours,  smoothh.g 
the  folds  of  her  black  dress  with  her  thin  white  hands  or 
twinmg  them  restlessly  together  in  her  lap.     Her  brown 
c^es  gazing  wistfully  around,  and  her  lips  half  parted  as 
It  to  speak.     Paler  and  more  unearthly  she  became  day 
hy  day    until,  at  the  end  of  the  summer,  she  appeared 
like  a  being  from  the  skies,  so  fair  and  fragile  had  she 
become,  ° 

With  the  cool  winds  of  autumn  she  seemed  to  revive 
and  all  began  feebly  to  hope  that  she  might  regain  her 
health  and  partial  happiness.  Mrs.  Arendell  urged  the 
colonel  to  take  her  to  Cuba,  but  Leonore  seemed  unwill- 
ing to  take  the  journey,  so  it  was  deferred.  She  said  to 
Aldeane : — 

"I  am  afraid  to  go ;  I  want  to  die  at  home '» 
Nothing  could  banish  the  thought  of  death  from  Iier 

mind,  It  was  fixed  there,  to  the  expulsion  of  all  ideas  of 

lite  and  joy. 


CHAPTEU   XXVIU. 

„,DE,1»E   I.KTI-BSS  TO  Til.    »OinH. 

A.  the  .ta-  awou.-^  «>'  ,""■•  S^^L^ tthll; 

mentioned  the  acsn-.bk..essouaup^^^  P    ^ 

Arthur  had  i.voi.osed  to  Mr.  ^^  ^'  "M  «  ^^ 

with  Belle  should  at  least  be  d'^'*'-^'-  ;^^' ^^^^  ^J^"  „,,hing 
whose   confidence   in   the    y^'^'^'f  ''^CJ^o  it,  ^n^ 

popularity.  December  found  the  inmatcH  of 

A  wet,  dreary  day  ni  Ue«.  ^'"'^^  sittin-room,  ai-ound  a 
Arendell  "^^^^f  ^ dArenS  was  writing,  Leo- 
glowmg  wood  fire.  /;«'"";;  "r,^^^^^  ^^j  Aldeanc  busily 
nore  looking  idly  out  ot  the  ™^'^^'' j  .^,  y^ank  had 
engaged  in  in«tructn.g  Eddie  and  Jes   c. 

be^n  sent  to  school  early  .n  f -/"^if/^i.rto^e  with 

^r,3tJ:sr:iw::=?:;withanairof 

some  interest  down  the  road. 


I 

J 


JCVIII. 

TIIK   NOUi'll. 

or   journey   North  ap- 
sR  and  uneasy.     Arthur 
ront  for  her  r,(arn,but 
n,  she  comi  not  endure 
ndells  even  ibr  a  sh«)rt 
depend  upon  her.     Yet 
I  eoun.scl  and  sympathy 
I  redueed  by  the  secret 
r.  HaUombe  had  already 
lisruption  of  partnership. 
Uiton,  that  his  marriage 
eferred,  but  Mr.  Ashton, 
iig  lawyer  was  nothing 
Id  not  listen  to  it,  and  it 
inted  time.     He  thought 
acnce   in   Arthur,  would 
he  would  soon  regain  his 

ber  found  the  inmates  of 
he  sitting-room,  around  a 
rendell  was  writing,  Leo- 
ndow,  and  Aldeanc  busily 
.  and  Jessie.  Frank  had 
the  lall,  and  she  now  had 
her  much  time  to  be  with 
was  looking  with  an  air  of 


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Collection  de 
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ALDEANE. 


281 


"  I'll,  there  is  a  horse  .and  bngfty  crossiiiir  tlio  hrifli,'(>." 
Hhe  Raid.    "  What  can  brinj^  any  one  liere  such  a  wet  day  ?" 

"  Probably  it  is  Dr.  (irey,  eoniing  to  see  yon,  my  dear. 
Yo\i  kiunv  he  doesn't  mind  a  little  rain.  lias  he  stopped 
here  V" 

"Yes,  papa.  But  it  is  not  Dr.  Grey,  but  a  young 
gentleman." 

She  started  as  a  young  man  leapt  from  the  vehicle. 
The  tall,  commanding  figure,  and  dark  complexion,  re- 
minded her  painfully  of  Raymond,  and  seemed  strangely 
familiar. 

Colonel  Arendell  walked  to  the  window.  "  Come 
liere,  Miss  Allie,"  he  said,  "  and  tell  me  whether  you 
know  who  tins  is  hurrying  up  the  walk.  I  am  sure  I 
have  seen  him  before  !" 

She  went  to  his  side,  and  in  a  joyous  voice  exclaimed  : 
"Arthur!  dear  Arthur  !"  and  rushed  to  meet  him. 

"  So  it  is !"  cried  Lconore.  "  JIow  strange  that  we  did 
not  recognize  him,  but  his  hat  is  sloui-hed  over  his  face 
so !  Ah,  how  delighted  Aldeane  is !"  biic  continued,  as 
siie  heard  a  faint  scream  of  delight,  and  beheld  lier 
clasped  in  Arthur's  warm  embrace. 

In  another  moment  he  was  in  the  house,  where  he  was 
received  Avarmly,  and  with  many  exclamations  of  surprise 
at  his  unexpected  appearance.  After  the  first  joyful  mo- 
ment of  meeting  was  passed,  Aldeane's  heart  sank  within 
her,  'ind  with  trembling  lips,  she  asked : — 

"  Why  have  you  come,  Arthm-  ?  Has  any  thing  more 
occurred  ?" 

"  Nothing  more,"  he  replied.  "  I  came  simply  to  con- 
duct you  home." 

Leonore  looked  at  liim  sorrowfully  for  a  moment,  and 
then  as  if  with  an  effort  said,  "  You  are  right,  Mr.  Guth- 
rie," and  hurried  from  the  room. 

"  We  shall  miss  Aldeane  very  much,"  said  the  s:olouel, 
"  but  I  believe  a  trip  North  will  do  her  good." 


282 


ALDEANE. 


"And  tliis  is  the  very  time  for  her  to  take  it,  as  you 
are  about  to  take  ]NIif»H  Leonore  to  Cuba.  Dr.  Morgau 
oommiHsioned  mo  to  say,  when  I  told  him  I  was  coming 
here  to  take  Aldeane  home,  that  he  could  join  you  there 
with  his  wife,  as  she  is  so  very  delicate." 

Aldeane  averted  her  face  quickly. 

"  We  have  given  up  the  trip  to  Cuba,"  said  Mrs.  Aren- 
dell,  "  Leonore  seems  to  be  so  very  unwilling  to  leave 
homo.  But  how  is  Annie  V  Do  you  think  that  her  life 
is  in  danger  ?" 

•'  I  do,  indeed,  madam,"  replied  Arthur.  "  She  8eem>- 
to  be  gradually  sinking,  in  spite  of  Morgan's  care.  I  fear 
she  will  soon  pass  from  earth." 

"  I  fear  that  our  tears  will  scarcely  be  dried  for  one, 
ere  they  will  flow  for  another!"  sighed  the  colonel,  as 
Leonore  glided  by  the  window. 

"  Aldeane  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Arendell,  quickly,  wishing 
to  change  the  subject :  "  Your  brother  must  be  weary. 
Show  him  to  a  room,  will  you  ?  And  order  a  servant  to 
attend  him." 

'Aldeane  led  the  way  to  the  apartment  that  had  been 
occupied  by  George  Raymond.  Arthur  caught  her  in  his 
arms  when  they  were  alone,  and  looking  sorrowfully  upon 
her  careworn  face,  exclaimed  : — 

"  Oh,  Aldeane  !  Aldeane  !  you  are  sacrificing  yourself 
for  others  !  It  is  wrong  !  indeed  it  is.  Thanks  be,  I  have 
arrived  in  time  to  save  you  two  months'  care  at  least !" 

"  But  really,  Arthur— !" 

"  But  really,  Aldeane —  !'  but  we  will  not  discuss  the 
point  now.  You  have  not  asked  me  about  any  of  your 
Boston  friends  yet !" 

"  Your  arrival  has  so  distracted  me  that  I  have  been 
unable  to  collect  my  senses  sufficiently  to  ask  any  thing. 
I  suppose  they  a^e  all  well." 

"  Yes  ;  and  very  anxious  to  see  you." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad  I  am  so  kindly  remembered.     I  will 


T 


lo! 

I'u 
Avi 

I 

ap 

lor 

alti 

iiac 

aln 

per 

eye 

oil 

II 

thui 

vert 

glo\ 

nece 

and 

last  I 

"J 

fectb 

"i 

for  si 

to  his 

Ne-,;i 

"C 

hates 

mosit^ 

other, 

ance  1 

and  t( 

liave  t 

"Cs 

asked 

if  it  CO 

"Nc 


her  to  take  it,  as  you 

■)  Cuba.     Dr.  Morgan 

1(1  him  I  was  coming 

could  join  you  there 

eate." 

y- 

/uba,"  said  Mrs.  Aren- 
ry  unwilling  tc  leave 
ou  think  that  her  life 

Arthur.  "She  secmy 
Morgan's  care.    I  fear 

cely  be  dried  for  one, 
iighed  the  colonel,  as 

ndell,  quickly,  -wishing 
other  must  be  weary, 
.nd  order  a  servant  to 

rtment  tliat  had  been 
rthur  caught  her  in  his 
king  sorrowfully  upon 

re  sacrificing  yourself 
is.  Thanks  be,  I  have 
)nth8'  care  at  least !" 

?,  will  not  discuss  the 
me  about  any  of  your 

L  me  that  I  have  been 
ntly  to  ask  any  thing. 

you." 

Y  remembered.     I  will 


f 


ALDEA  yE. 


283 


-ill  find  us  in  ZtZ^       "''  "'"  "*  ^^"^*^"^-     ^'-' 

lore  he  bad  Cen  ZZZ  '  T?  "  '''' ^''''  ''- 
alterednoarlvas  '     4         ^  '7   T^   ''"^y^"'^'     "«   ^ad 

1-d  been  s  !,^a  ^t  d  in:t'  7\f '"""  *'"'  '-^'^  ^'^^^ 
already  sli,i;u;"l^^^rii^"S^''  >-w,  was 
pcrament  was  hIm;,,!     ^     "7  anxiety ;  his  nervous  tern- 

irecmrary  to  conifnrf      Ti,      t    ,  ,  "  ''''''  ''"■'It'i^d 

""..  oj.  ^riX; ;.  Vnl,  It  «'  bf '""  1  """> 

iMt  oxdaiming  :-l  "  '"™""'  •''«"'.  »' 

to  his  integrity  or  „b,lL  "  4  ■■       '■""  °f  <■»"'«  »» 

mosity  rv-ith  which  ,>  U  u,    J^        '*   enduring  ani- 

oth»/  N„5  ::::i;,t'U  h-s^:/:;  s  r '?  ■;?  '- 

a..ce  1.C  ,eok,  .„<,i,g„oe  me  .n't":  et  "^of  IVw'TS' 
^veir-r  ^-"  -  «-  .o  re  lfS'"f 

if  it  continue,  n^achl^l.'^^  "      ^  '""«  "  "■  ""^  "'"«<' 
"No,  not  every  .MngI  for  I  firmly  Wicve  Mr.  A.h.„„ 


284 


ALDEANE. 


T 


will  never  lose  hb  confiilenee  in  me;  it  would  kill  me  if 
he  should— and  I'.elle  will  always  love  nie--that  feeUn-; 
appears  to  he  an  attribute  of  her  nature— thank  (;od— 
and  ean  not  ho  ehan,c;ed.  ( )nly  one  way  ean  I  .nee  to  batlle 
Nevins,  an.l  save  myself.  Aldeane,  if  I  could  recover  that 
lost  dfHMuneiit  that  mother  obtained  from  him,  we  should 
be  able  to  ruin  him !" 

"  Ah  !"  said  Aldeane,  with  an  incredulous  smile,  "  you 
still  believe,  then,  that  that  document  once  existed  ?" 

"  I  am  sure  of  it !     Positive !     I  luive  lately  been  to 
fvery  lawyer  in  the  neifflib-'-hood,  thinking  that  perhaps 
to  baffle  Nevins  mother  ])laeed  it  in  strange  hands,  but  I 
have  not  been  able  to  discover  that  she  ever  called  \ii>oii 
either  of  them.     Mr.  Evans  you  know  wus  particular 
about  every  thing.     There  is  an  entry  made  in  a  record- 
book,  the  Jamuiry  before  we  went  to  school— I  have  for- 
gotten the  exact  date.     '  Mrs.  Nevins  called  to-day  on 
private  and  important  business '—and  again,  but  a  few 
months  before  her  death,  'Mrs.  Nevins  intrusted  to  my 
care  to-day  several  important  pai)ers,to  be  kept  carefully 
until  after  her  decease,  then  to  be  delivered  to  her  son 
Arthur.'     Charley  happened  to   come  across  those  pas- 
sages one  day  while  looking  over  his  father^s  books,     lie 
wrote  to  me  "to  come  and  pay  him  a  visit.     I  did  so ;  and 
while  there,  ransacked  drawers,  safes,  and  trunks,  full  of 
documents,  without  finding  the  ones  I  sought,  although 
I  am  positive  they  were  given  uito  the  lawyer's  hands — 
are  probably  now  in  existence." 

"  Mr.  Charles  Evans  'seems  to  take  a  great  interest  in 
the  case,"  said  Aldeane,  after  a  pause, 

"  He  does,  indeed,"  answered  Arthur.  "  You  know  we 
were  boys  together,  and  inseparable  when  at  home.  It 
is  not  often  that  the  friendships  of  youth  endure  as  ours 
has.  Since  I  commenced  practicing,  I  have  been  indebted 
to  him  for  a  number  of  clients  in  Boston ;  but,"  he  added 
gloomily,  "  they  are  falling  off  now,  one  by  one." 


mc;  it  would  kill  me  if 
lys  lovp  mc — that  fcolin^' 
lor  nature — thank  (lotl — 
one  way  can  I  ."co  to  batlle 
ine,  if  Icoulil  recover  that 
lined  from  liim,  we  should 

II  incredulous  smile,  "  you 
•ument  once  existed  ?" 
' !     I  have  lately  hoen  to 
lod,  thinking  that  perhaps 
it  in  strange  hands,  but  I 
that  e-he  ever  called  upon 
,ou  know  was  particular 
m  entry  made  in  a  rccord- 
ent  to  school — I  have  for- 
,  Nevins  called  to-day  on 
8 ' — and  again,  hut  a  few 
1,  Nevins  intrusted  to  my 
iapers,to  he  kept  carefully 
I  be  delivered  to  her  son 
,0   come  across  those  pas- 
ser his  father's  books.     He 
lim  a  visit.     I  did  so;  and 
3,  safes,  and  trunks,  full  of 
le  ones  I  sought,  although 
uito  the  lawyer's  hands — 

to  take  a  great  interest  in 
a  pause. 

d  Arthur.  "  You  know  we 
arable  when  at  home.  It 
)S  of  youth  endure  as  ours 
icing,  I  have  been  indebted 
in  Boston ;  but,"  he  added 
■  now,  one  by  one." 


ALDEANi:. 


285 


"And   :\rr.    Halcombo   feels    it    as    nincJi  as  von    of 
course  ?" 

"  Yes,  tliat  is  true  !  The  poor  fellow  is  undecide.l  what 
to  do;  his  lather  and  brother  urge  him  to  leave  the  firm 
^vlnle  his  love  and  eonlidence  in  me  incline  him  to  elin<' 
t  ill  the  last.  I  have  spoken  to  him  plainly  on  the  matter' 
and  we  have  at  length  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  if  our 
prospects  do  not  improve,  w.>  will  part  in  the  spring. 
-Mr.  Ashton  has  strong  hopes  that  my  marnag(.  with  his 
daughter  will  restore  public  conHdence:  for  people  will 
say,  '  It  Ashton  can  trust  him  so  far  as  to  give  him  his 
only  daughter,  we  surely  can  trust  our  bu'siness  aflairs 
in  his  han.ls.'  I  can  only  hope  that  it  will  be  so,  without 
teeling  any  assurance  of  it." 

"  JJut,  Arthur,  hat  is  it  that  Mr.  Xevins  has  said  about 
you  ?"  asked  Aldeane.  "  You  have  never  told  me  that 
yet." 

"  I  do  not  know  myself,"  roidied  Arthur.     "  All  is  so 
vague  and  uncertain,  a:id  Xevins  has  conducted  himself 
with  so  much  caution,  that  I  have  never  been  able  to 
prove  that  lie  has  said  any  thing  against  me,  or  found 
any  tlung  to  deny.     In  my  own  mind,  not  by  any  out- 
ward  evidence  of  it,  I  am  sure  that  he  is  working  my 
nun.     Certain   it   is,  that  the  very  tirst  of  my  clients 
that  deserted  me,  was  a  gentleman  with  whom  he  had 
become  very  intimate,  and  since  then  others  have  followed 
m  his  train,  until  nearly  all  the  business  has  fallen  away. 
I  have  not  been  .able  to  demand  reasons  for  this,  but  1 
have  heard  repeatedly  that  some  of  those  gentlemen  said 
that  '  a  man's  future  may  be  judged  from  his  past  life. 
'Tis  as  well  to  put  one's  affairs  in  the  hands  of  those  one 
knows  to  be  reli.-ible,  as  to  trust  it  with  young  lawyers 
of  doubtful  integrity.' 

"  And  again,  th.it  if  Mr.  Ilalcombe  Avas  alone,  the- 
should  not  think  of  taking  their  patronage  from  him,  but 
now,  that  they  consider  it  best  to  do  so.     All  of  which 


280 


ALDEANE. 


T 


coiitaina  strdna:  insinuations  Against  me.  AH  this,  I  per- 
ceive, has  taken  etlVot  upon  Chester;  ht  often  eyes  nic 
askance,  and  seems  to  have  no  hope  that  we  shall  ever 
rise  together,  lie,  is,  in  fact,  anxious  for  a  separation, 
though  he  does  not  wish  to  wound  my  feelings  by  frankly 
telling  me  so.  I  am  a  most  unfortunate  fellow,  indeed," 
and  ArtI  ur  sighed  deeply. 

"  Oh,  no,  you  are  not,"  cried  Aldeane.  "  Think  how 
many  tiue  friends  you  have  ;  think  how  Ik-Ue  loves  and 
trusts  you  !  and  how  happy  you  will  be  in  the  possession 
of  that  love — to  be  yours — yours  alone  forever!  Oh, 
how  blest !"  '' 

Arthur  took  her  hands  within  his  own,  pressing  them 
gently,  and  looking  into  her  eyes — "  Yes,  I  shall  indeed 
be  blest !  IJut  you,  AUie,  how  is  it  with  you  ?  Your 
hopes,  I  fear,  have  been  cruelly  blighted." 

"  Oh,  Arthur !"  She  fell  upon  his  bosom  with  a  low 
scream  of  real  anguish.  She  h.id  not  known  before  how 
slight  a  word  would  rend  her  heart.  She  had  sealed  thc^ 
fountain  of  her  tears,  and  shunned  thought.  She  had 
tancied  she  had  almost  forgotten;  but  these  few  words 
of  sympathy,  spoken  in  loving  tones,  had  aroused  again 
all  her  love  and  despair. 

For  a  moment  Arthur  held  her  in  his  arms,  in  astonish- 
ment ;  then  lifting  up  her  pale  face,  asked  sternly :  "  Have 
you  been  trifled  with,  and  then  your  pure  loving  heart 
thrown  aside  ?" 

"  You  know  it  was  not  so !"  she  cried,  passionately. 
"He  loved  me;  he  does  still!"  She  breathed  out  the 
words  as  if  she  found  a  fierce  pleasure  in  them.  "  His 
puny  wife  is  nothing  more  than  a  petted  child  to  him, 
and  yet  she  took  precedence  of  me  !" 

"You  love  Frederic  Morgan!  Oh,  Aldeane!  Al- 
deane !"  cried  Arthur,  alarmed  more  by  her  manner  than 
her  words ;  for  she  had  risen  and  stood  before  him,  her 
hand  upraised  and  her  eyes  dilated.     "  You  forgot  your- 


ui 
in 

8t( 

ro( 


lo\ 
wi: 

gOi 

(i 
(( 
(I 

will 

ton, 

to  8< 

A 

seen 
thel 

"Me 

Leor 

cares 

ised 

resto 

long( 

vou.'' 

"r 

-  .  h. 


E. 

nst  me.  All  this,  I  per- 
■stor;  ht  ot'tcn  oyes  mo 
lope  that  wo  Rhall  <'ver 
xious  for  :i  Mt'piiration, 
1  my  fceliiiiis  by  traiikly 
rtuiiatc  fellow,  indeed," 

Aldeaue.  "  Think  liow 
ink  how  Ik-lle  loves  and 
will  be  in  the  possession 
irs  alone  forever  !     Oh, 

i 
his  own,  pressing  them 
;s — "  Yes,  I  shall  indeed 
is  it  with  you  ?     Your 
(lighted." 

his  bosom  with  a  low 
1  not  known  before  how 
irt.  She  had  scaled  the 
ned  thought.  She  had 
■n;  but  these  few  words 
ones,  had  aroused  again 

•  in  his  arms,  in  astonish- 
;e,  asked  sternly :  "  Have 
your  pure  loving  heart 

she  cried,  passionately. 
'  She  breathed  out  the 
leasure  in  them.  "  His 
1  a  petted  child  to  him, 
ne!" 

n !  Oh,  Aldeaue !  Al- 
nore  by  her  manner  than 
id  stood  before  him,  her 
ted,     "  You  forg!?t  your- 


ALDEAXE, 


287 


Holf.     He  is  the  husband  of  another  !     (  omnose  yonrself 
and  iorget  the  jjfist  again  !"  ^         yourself, 

,    "It  was  cruel  „f  y,,;  t,.  revive  ■(,"  she  exclaimed  sink 
^^r.llIK'lll^,  and  soon  became  calm 

"  You  must  and  shall  go  \„rth  with  me  !"  said  \rthur 

"IJut  Leonore,  poor  litJo  Leonore !"  she  sLWicd    h.-r 
l-e  for  her  drooping  inend  overcoming  her  ow;;:^':: 

J^^^  ""''•^•-    ''•^'""^  ^^^"^^"  -^  «he  are 
^  lV^^Tl7~^'\  ^«'".^  t«  ^'i--5>a  next  week." 
'All :  it  til  It  IS  the  case " 

"  You  will  go  ?" 

"  W^*"f  ^V,  ^'^^  •     ^^^''^'"  «'>^»  ^«  «tart  ?" 
W  e  shall  leave  as  soon  as  you  can  pack  up.     When 
will  you  be  ready  ?"  '^  " 

"  To-morrow ;  any  time  you  jilease.     Oh  dear  nl,1  n 
Arthur  was  much  pleased  to  see  her  interesf  i„  h. 

" We  Jin  ""ri^'r^^^"^"*'^^ ^"-^'y- p--'>i 

"Ar  >  r/''"  '^^^^  ''^^''  to-morrow,"  he  said 
Meanwhile,  don't  cry  yourself  sick  over  pkrtin..  ^  h 
Leonore,  or  allow  the  children  to  suftbcate  you  with  7^, 
caresses  or  deafen  you  with  their  cries,  for  I  have  p  'm 
.sed  to  let  you  come  back,  if  your  health  is  sufh'c  ently 
0 stored,  1,  two  months;  Leonore  is  unwilling  to  stay 
lo..gor  m  '  uba,  and  she  could  not  exist  here"  without 

^ovo,  I  may  c^iange  my  mmd.     T  niusi  away  and  put 
-  .  house  in  order,  that  I  may  find  it  so  on  my  return  » 


288 


ALDEANE. 


T 


He  partod  with  hor  at  tho  ,loor,  Uissinf,  l.or  fu.vny, 
nn.l  sai.l,  »(lo;  but  rhaMK'o  your  min-l  on  your  l-oril. 
;:  n:...l  my  l^oUe  to  hrinR  you  hack  w.th  u.^  a.u    I 
L\\  not  aisai.point  her,  U'st  nho  Hhould  me  alHo.     1  ho  day 


•will  not  disai)i)oint 

after  to-morrow  !     lli'iuembcr !" 


tri 

a 

wi 

Bo 

the 

o\v 

I 

din 

bri( 

ofi 

wer 

adn 

sect 

boei 

beei 

pres 

nion 

B 

all  0 

have 

reras 

whic 

hb  d 


n'md  on  yovir  iioril.     I 

l)iu-k  with  luc,  and  I 

mid  me  alHO.    The  day 


ClIAi»TKR    XXIX. 


A    lUKASUKK    Kor.ND. 

TunKK  w,-,.kM  iaf.-r  umch  ha.l  o,.,.„rrod.     Arthur  had 

trmmH,antly  ..ondu,.tc.d  his  sistc.M.M.hward,  wh..  "  „no 
a  pa.n.u     ,>ar.,„,.  with    Lcon^r.    i,.  Now  Vork    ;4   . 

w.th  foH,„,s   „do.scri.,ahl..  .h.  had  c-an.ht  a  m om.^.t      : 

Kim.p-ot    Fn-doric    Morgan    and    his faHhionahh       S 

JoK-ate  bndc,  sh.  had  had  a  most  Jovfui  moot  n  'J 

We  Ashton  at    foso  Cottage,  and  had  hohoM  will  j  y 

the  u„,ononu.r.i..arly  loved  brother  to  his  first  hne  hi 
own  faithtnl  friend.  ' 

It  had  been  what   ,,eo,,lo  nsnally  call  a  "stylish  wed- 
Jl.n^,"  the  bnde  had   lu-en  most  exquisitelv  dressedthe 
bndesmau  s  m  appoaranee  <,wne..  j„.\  the  rJ.iuisite  d  U  ^ 
of  ndenonty  to  the  eentral  fi,^„re  upon  M-lieh  all  ey  8 
^^ro    turned-the    bride.roon.    was'  more    univerX 
admired    than    .s   usual  with  what   is    <.o„shlered    the 
seeondary  hn.nre  upon  such  an  oceasio„-the  quests  hid 
been  of  the  A,na  ton,  and  the  nuptial  arran,.!;     ,  s  itt 
been  a  1  that  t-ie  most  fastidious  could  desin,  whUe    he 
presents  were  the  wonder  and  envy  of  all  Boston  fl    a 
montii  afterward.  * 

But  there  had  been  one  gift  prized  by  Arthur  above 
all  others,  though  doubtless  had  Belle  seen  it  she  would 
have  considered  it  a  poor  affair.     But  for  some  time  she 

which  Chades  Evans  had  drawn  the  groom  aside,  when 
h.  uehvered  to  him  a  email  packet  Ind  whi8pe;ed  in 


290 


A  m  E .[  SE. 


triuiiM.l.ant  tono.,  tl.it   it   was  tl..'  .lo..«,n.<nt  for  whioh 

tlu'V  IwkI  H»>i\r.'lHil  so  lnll'4. 

»'  \,„l  uctuallv.  M1V  latli.T,"  naid  Kvnn^  sU-otnlly- "  the 
,,u,.,.nHt  ul.l  suu'l  lie  was  you  know— Im.l  ntowo.l  it  nwsiy  in 
.,„  „l.l  b<...t  ill  tin-  jianvt,  an.l  so  our  s.aivh,  art.-r  all,  wan 
■„„  l,notl.ss  ..iu>."  An.l  Kvans  lan-hnl  at  Lis  ..wn  i-o-.r 
,.,ui  an.l  was  luaitilv  j.-incl  l.y  Artlmr,  wl...  .Icclar.Ml  it 
tlK'  iH-Ht  hi"  ha.l  .-vcr  i.far.1  in  his  lit.,  whih-  with  a  yn-lnjl 
..n-ort  lu'  iMM.kct.Ml  tlu.  ,.a|H-r,  rolVainini;  fn.m  .•ast.ni,'  h.s 
cyos  ovor  il  until  a  n...iv  littiu,^  „p|...rluinty  shouhl  l-re- 

Hent  itself.  .     .^ 

An.l  wh.'u  he  ha.l  mado  himsclt  master  of  its  eontonts 
he  reveale.l  then.  L.  Mr.  Ashton  alon..,  an.l  blesse.l  "  h.s 
lu<.kv  Htars,"  that  he  ha<l  sahl  nothin-  of  it  to  Al.leaue. 
Aml'so  she  remaine.l  in  his  house  three  months  totally 
uneonsoious  of  the  new  light  that  ha.l  h..a.,.e.l  upon  the 
vo,.n.r  lawver'8  eves,  and  at  times  ren.h-re.l  hini  careless 
of  the  iKM-iIlexities  of  his  business,  an.l  in..re  than  onee  ho 
sai.l  t.)  Mr.  Ashton,  that  he  sh..nM  he  saved  if  a  eerta.n 
letter  reaehe.l  itH  destination  in  safety. 

lint  the  wav  i.erha,.s  was  Ion-,',  for  ore  the  th.-ec 
months  were  <i'uite  over,  A.-thurs  despou.leney  returned, 
ftud  one  evening'  he  returned  from  his  oftiee  most 
serionslv  disturhe.l.  Even  his  ^vife's  j,'ay  raillery  eoul. 
not  reeall  his  usual  eheerfulness.  She  anxiously  inquire, 
if  he  was  ill.  He  replied  in  the  ne.tcat  ive,  and  cn.leavored 
to  appear  anhnated  in  her  pi-esenee,  hut  when  she  lell 
the  room,  he  threw  himself  <.n  a  sofa  in  sueh  evitlent 
despondency  that  Aldeane  seated  herself  beside  him  and 
said  affectionately : — 

"  Tell  me,  Arthur,  what  has  happened.     Something  has 
gone  wrong  at  the  office,     These  persecutions  have  been 

redoubled."  ^  ,  .       ,       <,  xt  ^ 

.  "  They  have,  indeed,  Allie  !"  he  replied,  bitterly.  Not 
one  moment's  happiness  will  the  fiend  give  me.  While 
he  Uvc8  I  can  not  hope  to  prosper;  to  heai-  of  liia  death 


ilocuinont  for  which 

vnnn,  jjh'ftuUj— "  the 
li;i.l  stowt'il  it  fiwiiy  in 
M;inii,  after  all,  was 
;htil  at  his  own  |)oiir 
luir,  wlio  (U'clan'tl  it 
,  while  witli  a  violent 
lins;  from  eastini;  his 
l>(nl\iiiity  sluuihl  pre- 

rnaster  of  its  t'i)nti'nt!i 
one,  and  bU'ssiul  "  hia 
linti  of  it  to  AlcUane. 
three  months  totally 
lia.l  heameil  npon  the 
lenderetl  liim  careless 
iml  more  than  once  ho 
I  1k'  saved  if  u  certain 
et  y. 

I!,',  for  oro  the  throe 
iesixmdeney  returned, 
rom  his  otliee  niost 
le's  jjjay  raillery  could 
She  anxiously  inquired 
rativo,  and  endoavorod 
lu-e,  but  when  who  loft 
V  sofa  in  sueh  ovitlont 
herself  beside  him  and 

pened.  Something  has 
persecutions  have  been 

replied,  bitterly.  "Not 
fiend  give  me.  While 
r ;  to  heai-  of  hia  death 


■i  f'  h  AM  A'A'. 


21M 


-nid   he    „.e    ,m.t  Joyful  ne.s  any  one   could    bring 

"Dear    Arthur;    pray   .!o„'t    Hp..„k    ho!"    exelm,,,... 
•Uh^ne  alnmst  terrlHed  l,y  th..  ,i.....,„,,,  ,,n.is  m^^^^^^ 

'-'";;;::  t;:;;'.:::;:;;;:;:,:^"-'- -•>::.• 

ItLnltrt:' '••  T  •"— -''' Allie.  Im,  that 

Aldeant'  nodded 

»:. ;  ::^;:;^;;r;;;:r,;:r,'^';--— 

tho  advice  o    1        /       i'      '''  """   '"'  '""l  "'"<'«'  i'  '-v 

;:;^..^, !=;.!;:::;;:!:-—•-:  - 

"ij.     ilaieombe  was   about   t,>   ,.:.w.,.i  •         ,        "f* 

ore  bowed  coldly  an,l  left  him      \Vl..,7 

V       .'    Tt  '^""  H'-n'^ihility  glittering  i„  her  gentle 

lyos,   'but  I  can  not  console  you  like  that  n„«  /      i 
you  should  unburden  all  yJZv^^^  '"  '"'"'" 

''Ah!   you  mean  my  wife!"  he  replied,  with  a  si^h 

No,  Aldeano,  I  can  not  fill  her  loying  heart  with  an viJtv  " 
1  can  „ot  gneve  my  bride  so  c|uickly  "  '*^' 


292 


ALDEANE. 


«Evory  thin^  is  to  be  fcarcl,"  answered  AMoanc    "If 

Ull     She  shall  be  made  partaker  of  my  sorrows  as  well  as 

^'Si:irfollowin,  mornh,.  Aiaeane  -^IJy  V^'^^^^ 
that  I?elle  had  indeed  been  tnade  a  conhdant  ot  b>  htr 
husb  m  Though  as  eheerful,  she  was  more  thovightful 
S  ll,  and  after  Arthur  had  letl  for  the  office  Aldeano 
wa  not  surprised  to  see  her  home  and  seat  herselt  on  the 
floor  at  her  feet,  in  her  old  manner,  and,  as  of  yore,  pour 
nnt  her  heart  and  ..sk  for  advice. 

"^' You  know,  love,"  she  concluded   "  I  must  bear  up 
no   difference   what   comes,   lor   Arthur  "eed.    all   my 
strength-  he  thinks  so  much  of  my  welforo,  that  I  must 
Tin   s^e  that  I  am  willing  to  bear  as  much  or  his  sake 
as  he  can  for  mine,  else  his  faithful  heart  will  find  me  a 

^"^t  :::-M  l^:C^a:';hai,  l^le  r  repUed  Aldeane. 
"  You  know  that  I  love  my  brother  as  well  as  it  is  possi- 
Ue  ZZ  to  do ;  though  impulsive  and  passionate,  he  is 
S:  tul  of  integrity,  and,  I  truly  ^^Ueve  has  neve.  be. 
led  beyond  the  confines  of  temperance  and  Mitue.     He 
:tes  you  ardently,  and  I  believe,  above  all  other.,  you 
are  best   fitted  to   control  his  wayward   nature,     tor 
years  vou  have  been  the' load-star  of  his  existence;  no 
oh       ove  has  ever  animated  him.     I  entreat  you,  dear- 
:  t,  to  >   --  of  weakening  this  attachment.   K^member 
hat  the  highest  duty  of  woman  is  to  'suffer  and  be 
stromV     Strong  in  her  love,  in  her  sympathy,  and    n 
r^^nation  to  whatever  the  Lord  may  deem  good  to 
•iftlict  her  with.     In  all  the  perplexities  and  sorrows  that 
fmayt  your  lot  to  share,  console  and  advise,  but  never 


JL,. 


wercd  Aldoanc   "  If 

pecrt't  irom  her  ;  let 

i;  it  will  be  kindness 

a  moment's  reflection, 
gin  our  true  wedded 
my  sorrows  as  well  as 

anc  readily  perceived 
t  confidant  of  by  her 
.  was  more  thonghtful 
t  for  the  office  Aldeane 
and  seat  herself  on  the 
,  and,  as  of  yore,  pour 

led,  "I  must  bear  up, 
\rthur  needs  all  my 
y  welfare,  that  I  must 
ir  as  much  for  his  sake 
nl  heart  will  find  me  a 

elle !"  replied  Aldeane. 
er  as  well  as  it  is  possi- 
,-c  and  passionate,  he  is 
believe,  has  never  been 
?rance  and  virtue.     He 
!,  above  all  others,  you 
A-ayward   nature.     For 
ir  of  his  existence ;  no 
Ti.     I  entreat  you,  dear- 
attachment.   Kemember 
m  is  to  'suffer  and  be 
her  sympathy,  and  in 
)rd  may  deem  good  to 
exities  and  sorrows  that 
ole  and  advise,  but  never 


A  IDE  AXE. 


293 


upbraid  him;  his  an,<rer  would  burn  more  fiercely  th.n 

bcfor!'",'""'"^   •""'^^^"'''''"-     "  ^'^^"  ^^''^••"-'  ">^-  «"  often 
btfo.e  my  marnagc,  Allio,  and  besides,  I  have  know 

Arthur  so  long,  that  I  can  not  tail  to  remenU.   •  it      But 
ndeed,  dearest,  .t  seems  us  if  we  shall  never  be  hannv  " 
and  she  sighed  deeply.  ^^^  ' 

"Tliat  can   scarceiy   be   expected '"  ronIi,.,l    \n 

p«.,,  h,.  „a„,.  ,i,,,-,!,  „„.,  i.,.c,  j„„;::;';,v  ,f  s 

turisot  the  vounf  w  te      "  l-»,.i.ft>„f  *•  \-  ■.  '^ 

<^Vx»„-      1-      .'    ""o  "'»»^.        ^  <^^"ect  lelicitv  can  never  ho 

The  bell  rang  loudly  through  tlie  house,  startling  them 
Lion!""  the  sober  train  of  thought  into  which  tlfey  S 

"It  is  papa !"  exchiimed  Belle,  sprinijin-  „p    «i  know 
liis  nng;  and  there  is  h.s  carriage-  [,  tl'e  door- 

after  t'hlT  "^TT  '• ''  ^'"^'^'""^  ^''^  '•«""'•     f^nnediately 

ylg  lawyer:  ""'"'"""  '"^^  ^''^^  ^^'^""-^  ^«  ^^^ 
Mr.  Asliton  listened  gravely  to  the  recital.  "  I  was  in 
J^ope  that  this  persecution  had  ceased,"  he  at  last  re 
marked.  "I  .aw  that  n^odern  Judas  Iscari.  -I  ^  ns- 
^us  mornmg  m  company  with  several  of  the  best  m^nof 
Boston  many  of  whom,  I  doubt  not,  were  Arthurs  cli 
onts,  ^^om  he  was  slyly  but  surely  .re.^uli^lt  Lain  t 
JZibllr^^  see  to  this  matter;  it'mult  be  sC^eTu' 

He  evidently  felt  more  anxiety  about  tlie  -ift-ii,-  thnn  i 
was  willing  to  reveal  to  Belle  ami  Aide      .'' A   ,1  :  ,ew 

Aldeane,  wUh  the  UKpury  wlu-n  she  proposed  returning 


JL 


294 


ALDEAiTE. 


"In  a  wcok  at  the  farthest,"  she  replied.  "I  am 
already  prepared  to  ffo  at  an  hour's  warning.' 

"  Yo'i  wish  to  go  by  way  of  New  York  Y" 

"  Of  eoiirse '/' 

"  Well  then,"  he  continued,  "  if  you  w...  accept  me 
for  an  escort,  and  be  ready  by  Tuesday,  I  will  aecom- 
nanv  YOU  as  far  as  that  city." 

"Only  four  days  !"  exclaimed  Belle.  "  Indeed,  papa, 
she  shall  not  go;  'tis  bad  enough  that  she  will  go  at  all, 
but  I  am  sure  it  must  not  be  so  soon !" 

"  I  will  certainly  be  ready  to  accompany  you,  Mr. 
Ashton,"  said  Alde.ne,  quietly.  _ 

Belle  looked  at  her  with  a  comical  aftectation  ot 
surprise.  "That  has  been  the  way  ever  since  the 
first  day  I  met  vou  !"  she  said,  laughing,  "lou  have 
always  set  aside  all  my  arrangements  as  it  they  were 
not  k  th  slightest  consequence.  If  it  was  any  one  else 
but  you,  1  would  quarrel  with  theni  all  day  bi-fore  I 

would  allow  it."  ,  .    ,      ,„  i       11 

"  But  you  find  it  best  not  to  handle  thistles  !    laughed 

Aldeane.  ^     .,, 

"  Well  if  r  am  afraid  to  handle  them  myselt,  1  will 

find  some  one  that  is  not.     I  will  call  in  Arthur  to  e.vert 

his   authority,   and  detain   you   with   us;    I  declare    1 

will!"  .  TV! 

"  I  care  about  as  much  for  his  authority  now,  as  1  did 
in  my  school  days!"  replied  Aldeane,  gayly.  "Don't 
you  remember,  how  we  used  to  laugh  at  it  together, 
and  which  has  the  most 'of  it  now?  The  one  that 
laughed  the  most,  I  thhik." 

Belle  looked  a  little  confused. 

"Fairlv  caucrht !"  cried  .Mr.  Ashton.  "^\ell,  Allie, 
I  understand  that  you  are  to  go  with  me.  Remember 
that  I  am  on  your  side,  and  you  shall  do  just  as  you 
please.  Here  is  a  budget  of  letters,  that  I  got  tor  you 
at  the  post-oflice,  as  I  came  along.     One  is  from  Havana, 


a 
li 

t; 

b 
fl 

n 
el 
n 
fe 
ni 
ul 
oJ 

P' 
tr 

til 

se 

fir 

dc 

no 

Di 

an 

an 

ne 

nn 

it 

at 

foi 

ve 


e   replied.     "I   am 

rarniivjj.' 

York?" 

^'ou  w.-l  accept  mo 
!sday,  I  will  acconi- 

[lo.     "  Indeed,  papa, 

it  she  will  go  at  all, 

I" 

lecompany  you,  Mr. 

nical  affectation  of 
av  ever  since  the 
iiiliinij.  "You  have 
nts  as  if  they  were 
[f  it  was  any  one  else 
Mil  all   day  before  I 

le  thistles !"  laughed 

i  them  myself,  I  will 
ill  in  Arthur  to  exert 
ith   us;    I  declare    I 

Ihority  now,  as  I  did 
cane,  gayly.  "Don't 
laugh  at  it  together, 
iow?     The   one   that 


shton.     "Well,  Allie, 

with  me.     Remember 

shall  do  just  as  you 

L'rs,  that  I  got  for  you 

One  is  from  Havana, 


A  LDEANE. 


295 


I  see.     T  sliall  be  back  with  Arthur  to  dinner;   vou  must 
let  me  kiiow  the  m<ws  tlien.     Adieu  !" 

The  j)(M-usal  of  a  long  Ivtler  from  Leonore  occupied 
Aldeane's  lliouglits  for  some  time  after  Ids  depart uro. 
She  spoke  ehxpn^tuly  of  Cuba;  descji-ibiii^  with  enthusi- 
asm its  many  beauties,  and  enlarging  upon  the  pleasant 
life  they  led,  sometimes  in  the  eitv,  then  in  count  rv 
tasting  each  luxury  that  tlie  island  affurdeil  in  their 
search  for  iiealth. 

Of  Mrs.  .Alorgan  she  spoke  dcsjiondentlv.     The  spicy 
breezes  sccine,!  iiowerloss  to  bring  augiit  save  the  iiectic 
flush  of  death  to   her  cheek;  tlie  balmv  air  could  plant 
no   hue   of  health  there,  nor  raise  her  'spii-jfs    aizain   to 
cheerfulness.     It  was  plain  that  she  was  dving,  ami  their 
return  home  would  be  hastened  on  her  acciumt.     Aldeane 
feared    th.at    what    Leonore  had  written   of  Annie,  she 
might  with  equal  trutli  liave  said  of  lierself     Tlirouuh 
all  the  forced  gayety  of  th(!  letter  stole  a  dim  shadow 
of  sadness.     She   spoke  lovingly  of  home,  as  one  who 
pines   f-.r  its  shelter.     Aldeane  had  alwavs  feared  th.it 
travel  would  do  little  to  keep  her  from  the  earlv  tomb 
that  seemed  opening  to  receive  her,  and  this  letter  only 
served  to  strengthen  her  fears.     They  were  indeed  con- 
firmed by  a  short  note  from  Colonel  Arendell.     He  spoke 
despairingly  of  the  invalids,  saying  that  Leonore  appeared 
no  better,  and  that  Annie's  death  was  daily  expected. 
Dr.  ]\[org;in,  he  said,  Avitli  the  most  unceasin.^  tenderness 
watched  over  his  wifiv  and  soothed  her  fletVing  hours, 
and  as  Frederic's  mother  was  also  with  theni'no  cure 
and  attention  that  either  could  bestow  was  for  a  moment 
neglected.     He  named  an  early  day  for  their  departure, 
unless  Annie  should  become  so  much  worse  as  to  rendi'i' 
it  impossible,  ;iiid  concluded  by  begging  Aldeane  to  be 
at  home  to  meet  them,  much  for  his  own  sake,  but  more 
for  Leonore's,  to  whom   the   disappointment  would   be 
very  great  if  she  were  not  there  to  meet  her. 


296 


ALDEANE. 


AUleane  shed  many  tears  over  those  two  letters. 
Tenderly  she  tliought  of  Leonore  and  of  th-  dying  wito 
of  him  whom  she  still  loved  as  deeply  as  ever.  Sincere 
grief  for  her  untimely  fate  filled  her  heart.  She  sorrowed 
deeply  for  her,  without  one  selfish  thought,  and  felt,  that 
even  were  it  in  h.r  power,  she  w.)nld  not  take  from  her 
one  hour  of  happiness  that  she  had  enjoyed  in  her  mar- 
ried life  Her  heart  leai)t  wildly  as  she  thought  ot 
Frederic  Morgan,  and  with  an  efiV.rt  she  banished  the 
subject  from  her  mind,  for  to  think  of  him,  she  knew  was 
dangerous  to  her  i)i'aee. 

The  receipt  of  those  letters  determmed  her  still  more, 
in  spite  of  Arthur  and  Belle's  entreaties,  to  return  South 
immediately.  She  refieeted,  that  if  Annie's  strength  had 
permitted  they  were  alre.-idy  on  their  journey,  and  might 
reach  home  nearlv  as  soon  as  she  could.  She  could  not 
endure  the  thought  that  Leonore  should  return  to  Aren- 
dell  House,  and  find  it  so  dull  and  gloomy,  as  it  would 
certainly  appear  without  her  presence. 

The  last  evening  spent  in  Boston  was  quiet,  and 
almost  sad.  3lr.  Halcombe  and  Mr.  Evans,  with  a  lew 
friends,  came  in  to  bid  Aldeane  fiirewell.  Mr  Evans 
Bpokc  of  a  weightier  matter.  His  admiration  had  deep- 
ened into  love,^lnd  although  he  had  but  little  hope  that 
she  reciprocated  the  feeling,  he  offered  her  his  heart  and 
hand  assured  that  with  her  as  his  wife  he  should  be  one  ot 
the  happiest  of  men,  while  a  refusal  would  sadden  with- 
out making  him  utterly  miserable.  Aldeane  heard  him 
respectfullv,  then  in  a  delicate  manner,  most  flattering 
and  soothins  to  his  feelings,  declined  his  ofter,  and  he 
left  her,  thinkiiii:  more  deeply  on  the  matter  than  lie  had 
ever  conceived  his  philosophical  n.ature  would  permit  him 
to  upon  any  subject. 

At  early  morning  the  last  farewells  were  spoken,  and 
Aldeane  left  her  brother's  house,  leaving,  with  numberless 
pravers  for  their  welfare,  the  young  couple  to  bear  to- 


those  two  letters. 
11(1  of  tb  dying  wile 
ply  as  ever.  .Suiceie 
heiirt.  She  sorrowed 
hought,  and  felt,  that 
lid  not  take  from  her 
I  enjoyed  in  her  mar- 
:  as  she  thought  of 
)rt  she  banished  the 
of  him,  she  knew  was 

•mined  her  still  more, 
uties,  to  return  South 
■  Annie's  strength  had 
>ir  journey,  and  might 
•ould.  She  could  not 
hould  return  to  Aron- 
1  gloomy,  as  it  would 
leo. 

)ston  was  quiet,  and 
dr.  Evans,  with  a  few 
farewell.  Mr.  Evans 
admiration  had  deep- 
d  but  little  hope  that 
"ered  her  his  heart  and 
rife  he  should  be  one  of 
sal  would  sadden  with- 
.  Aldeane  heard  him 
lanner,  most  flattering 
lined  his  ofter,  and  he 
he  matter  than  lie  had 
iture  would  permit  him 

wells  were  spoken,  and 
laving,  with  numberless 
ing  eouplc  to  bear  to- 


ALDEANE. 


297 


gether  the  cares  and  joys  of  lift,  JVi-haps  as  she  caught 
the  last  glimpse  of  tliem  standing  together,  so  loving  so 
strong  .11  purpose  and  pure  in  heart,  she  thought  with  a 
pang  ot  what  might  have  been,  and  for  a  little  time  there 
came  upon  her  sueh  utter  desolation,  as  the  woman  who 
had  selhshly  wre,.ked  licr  happiness,  could  never,  never 
have  realized;  and  yet,  which  was  at  that  moment  the 

young  i;;:ict?'""'^'  ^^^^■"""^'  ^•-  '^'^^^''^  '^^-g->'« «- 

13* 


CHAPTER    XXX. 


THE    GOVKBXESS    RESUMES    !1ER    DUTIES. 

Was  ever  such  welcome  given  governess  before,  as 
that  which   nK.t  Al.leaue  (Guthrie    upon  her  return  to 
Arendell  House.     The  chihlren  n.et  her  at  Lorn.g  am 
h.lf  sufibcated  her  with  caresses,  an.l  -^'l^^-'^    ^U  ^ 
noisy  u.monstrations  of  <lehght,  and  ^  '-  ^  ."'^^^^^ 
ceived  he.    at  the   garden   gate,  and   drew   her  to  her 
bo  on.  with  a  silent\.ush  of  tears,  which  were  iar  more 
eloouent  than  any  words.     AUU-ane  returned  the  greetmg 
as  ;armly,  and  almost  hysterically,  though  such  weak- 
nesses were  not  at  all  usual  to  her.  ^i^asnre 

The  ne-roes,  with  countenances  expressive  of  pleasure, 
gathered'arouml  her,and  grasping  her  dress,  Aunt Roxy, 

^''"^"rW  I  hope  you'.e  brought  back  some  o^  de 
sunshine !   It's  cl'ar  gone  with  you  an'  M>ss  ^  ora.     Res 
you'  dear  faces.     I'sc  glad  to  sec  you  back  ag  in  an  dat 
IZs  comin',  an'  I  hope  she'll  look  as  hearty  as  you  do ! 
You've  done  picked  up  mighty,  Miss  Aldeane. 

With  a  few  kind  words,  Ald.ane  left  the  noisy  group, 
and  entered  once  more  the  well-remembered  sitting-room 
J  ssie  Ld  Eddie,  half  wild  with  delight,  danced  aroiind 
her,  asking  a  dozen  questions  in  one  breath  and  almost 
de-ifenin-  her  with  their  joyful  exclamations.  Mis 
A;l„de ifsoon  turned  them  quietly  from  the  room,  and 
ferting  herself  beside  Aldeane,  cla:,,eci  her  hanas  and, 
while  a  few  tears  strayed  over  her  face,  murmured  .- 


c 
a 

t 
a 

V 


h 
c< 

h; 
di 
h( 
U 


:x. 


lER    DVTIES. 


STOvcrnoss  before,  as 
upon  her  return  to 
L  her  at  Loring,  ami 
A  deafened  her  with 
id  >Iv-..  Arendell  re- 
nd drew  her  to  her 
which  were  for  more 
returned  the  greeting 
y,  though  huch  wcak- 

spressive  of  pleasure, 
her  dress,  Aunt  Roxy, 

ight  back  some  ob  de 
an'  Miss  Nora.     Bless 
fou  back  ag'in  an'  dat 
as  hearty  as  you  do! 
iss  Aldeane." 
e  left  tlie  noisy  group, 
lembered  sitting-room, 
elight,  danced  around 
ne  breath,  and  almost 
exclamations.      Mrs. 
ly  from  the  room,  and 
asi^eii  her  hands,  and, 
•  face,  murmured ; — 


ALDEANE. 


200 


"Oil!  Aldeano,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  again  returned 
to  us,  I  liiivc  missed  you  so  very  much  !  I  was  almost 
afraid  that  you  w.MiId  not  come  to  us  again,  our  house  is 
so  sad  and  lonelv." 

"Did  you  think  that  I  couhl  leave  you  in  the  midst  of 
sorrow  ?"  asked  Aldeane,  gently  and  reproachfully. 

"Dear  Aldeane,  nothing  ean  ever  repay  you  for  your 
kindness  to  us.  Promise  me,  darling,  that  yuu  will  not 
leave  us  agam  whil,.  Leonore  lives.  '  There  is  no  hope 
lor  her,'  say  all  the  ])hysieiiins  that  the  colonel  has  .•on- 
suited.  I  expect  them  home  dailv;  mv  onlv  fear  was 
that  they  would  arrive  before  you.  Leoliore  so  longs  to 
see  you,  that  the  disapi)ointmcnt  would  have  been  dread- 
ful to  her." 

Aldeane  endeavored  to  cheer  the  affectionate  step- 
mother, whose  nervous  state  she  noticed  with  extreme 
sorrow,  fearing  to  agitate  her  by  the  emotion  whieh  she 
could  not  repress,  she  retired  to  lier  own  chamber,  to  rest 
and  recover  from  the  fatigue  of  her  joui-ney. 

A  i'vvr  days  after  her  return,  as  she  was  i)assing  through 
the  hall,  3Irs.  Arendell  opened  the  door  of  her  chamber, 
and  asked  her  in  a  subdued  voice  to  enter.  .She  had  been' 
weeping  violently,  and  an  open  letter  edged  with  black 
was  in  her  hand. 

"  3Irs.  Arendell !"  exclauned  Aldeane  in  terror,  "  tell 
me  what  has  happened." 

"  Poor  Amiie  is  dead  !"  she  sobbed. 

Aldeane  sank  upon  a  chair,  repeating  the  words  in  a 
bewildered  manner,  her  heart  beating  with  emotion,  she 
could  not  herself  define. 

"'  Ah !  I  knew  you  would  sympathize  with  us !"  said 
Mrs.  Arendell,  as  Aldeane  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands,  striving  to  collect  her  thoughts,  and  master  the 
dizziness  that  blurred  her  sight.  Strange  feelincs  agitated 
her  soul ;  pity  for  the  young  and  beautiful  departed  cer- 
tainly predominated,  but  thoughts  that  made  her  heart 


300 


A  ldi:a  N  i:. 


throb  ivildly  wouUl  come.     It  was  some  niinutos  boforc 
nlu>  could  command  her  voice  sulHcuiitly  to  ..sk: — 

"Wlu'ii  did  sill"  die?" 

"On  tlie  tweiity-tirst  day  of  February.  They  were 
makinij  ]ir"j»arations  for  their  retiirn  liome,  when  she 
failetl  so  i.orceplibly  tiiat  tli'  i)r(>)ect  had  to  W  aban- 
doned. For  some  days  she  hiy  as  -weak  as  in  infant  upon 
lier  bed,  ])erfectly  resij^ned  to  (U-atli.  Frederic  nt-vi-r  for 
a  moment  h'ft  her,  and  sh.e  breathi(i  her  last  in  liis  arms, 
as  peacefully  as  if  she  had  fallen  as^lee})." 

"And  in  such  a  beconiinjj;  Avrapiier,  just  as  she  had 
hoped  she  would,"'  Leonore  says.  "Vou  know  Annie  was 
so  particular,"  she  added,  taruing  to  her  without  the 
slightest  jH'reeption  that  there  was  somethmg  almost 
laughable  in  what  she  had  said. 

But  there  was  no  one  there  who  felt  the  slightest  incli- 
nation to  laugh,  even  wlun  she  further  said,  that  Annie 
had  caused  her  hair  to  be  put  in  jtapers  the  night  beibre 
her  death,  that  in  case  such  an  event  should  take  place, 
she  might  a]>pear  to  the  best  advantage  in  her  eoflir 
and  even  Aldeane  thrust  from  lu-r  mind  these  trivialities 
which,  to  many,  would  have  lendered  a  rival  contempti- 
ble, and  thanked  Ctod,  that  she  hatl  died  happily,  that 
the  sunshine  of  life  had  continued  to  her,  even  to  the 
mysterious  and  awful  entrance  to  fCtcrnity. 

"  When,  now,  do  you  expect  Colonel  Arendell  and  Leo- 
nore?" she  asked,  anxious  to  divert  her  mind  from  the 
thoughts  that  thronged  and  confused  it, 

"The  first  of  next  week,"  was  the  reply.  "After 
Monday,  I  shall  send  the  carriage  to  Loring  every  day, 
in  anticipation  of  their  arrival.  I  shall  send  for  Frank, 
to-morrow  ;  he  is  so  anxious  to  see  you,  that  1  know  he  is 
impatient  at  my  long  delay,  besides  I  Avant  him  hero  to 
meet  Leonore,  that  all  the  family  may  be  present,  and 
make  it  as  cheerful  and  pleasant  as  possible  for  her." 

Jessie  and  1  Mie  entered  the  room  hastily.     "Oh,  mam- 


soi 
no 
ge 
otl 

OV( 

wit 

con 
i 
od 

awi 

(( 

imn 
Cul 

thoi 
Edd 
Arei 
fron 
relat 
Tl 
for  t 
full 
that 
and 
conft 
home 
Aide; 
with 
now 
schoo 
mcml 
Bpoii; 


oinc  niinutoM  boforc 
■iitly  to  ..sk: — 

1  Hilary.  Thoy  wore 
rii  liotnc,  when  she 
H't  liad  to  1)0  abaii- 
ak  as  in  infant  upon 
Frederic  lu-vor  lor 
}u-r  last  in  his  arms, 
"ep." 

per,  just  aa  she  had 
'ou  know  Annie  was 
to  her  without  the 
8   something  almost 

'It  the  slightest  incli- 
hor  said,  that  Annie 
|iers  the  night  beibre 
it  should  take  place, 
mtage  in  her  eoftir 
lind  these  trivialities 
t'd  a  rival  conlempti- 
d  died  happily,  that 

to  her,  even  to  the 
crnity. 

lel  Arendell  and  Leo- 
t  her  mind  from  the 
lit. 

the  reply.  "  After 
o  Loring  every  day, 
<hall  send  for  Frank, 
ou,  that  I  know  he  is 
s  I  Avant  him  hero  to 
may  be  present,  and 
possible  for  her," 
hastily.     "Oh,  mam- 


-«  l-D  i:.\  XK. 


801 


They  saw    the  answer  in   the  tear-stained   faces   -ind 
Horrow-stneken    appearance    of  ,he    two   ladies       Tl 
noisy  exclamations  were  hushd,  an<l  wh..,.  M.s.  Arcnde 
^-"tly  tod  them  0~,,  it  ,vas  tnu,  thev  regarded     ic 
••tlH-r  with  wonder...  looks,  a  feeiiim  of  aTu^  s  t.a  i  . 

A  crimson  flush,  which  sl-.e  bent  low  to  conceal  mount 
od  to  Aldeaiie's  lace,  aad  her  heart  In-at  wihUy  as  ho 
awaited  the  answer.  ^ 

"Xo,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Arendell.  "Your  uncle  will  ,,o 

Cuba  to  be  buried  m  the  family  ground  " 
./'^''•J,",'''''''^'    ^    ""-'"    '^«^'«    remembered    that" 

^IT^T-  "'?  "^/H^'""""  '^^  -^^'-     Then  takll^g 
fccl.lie   and   Jessie,   she   left   the    room,   to   allow  Mrs 

Aren,  ell   the   charm    of  solitude,  in   which  to   i^co  er* 

inun  Jhe  eftects  occasioned  by  the  death  of  her  Jomig 

The  remainder  of  the  week  was  spent  in  preparation 
io    tlie  return  of  the  travelers.     Aunt  Roxy  was  in  t^ 
full    glory,   superintending    the  host    of  young   .larkie 
.hat  Here  engaged  in  cleaning  the  house,  .and  bJautifyi  " 
and  clearing  the  grounds.     A  state  of  almost  hopel  "^ 

Tomt'^'TreTar  ''  ''  ^'^'T'^^  ^^  ^^"'"^'^  * '-'^  -» 
.yZne  %  K  ^'■"''■"  "'"'•'  '^"™S  *^'«  ^^^-  -"^nths  that 
Al dene  had  been  separated  from  him,  and  she  looked 
..nth  increased  love  and  pride  upon  h'er  former  pupi 
now  a  handsome  lad  of  fourteen,  the  favorite  of'  J 
school,  and  the  pride  of  the  class  ,>f  which  he  wa  x 
rnember.  Still  as  much  as  ever  he  delighted  hi  b' vlh 
spo...  and  adventures,  and  the  next  day^after  his  reUu- 


er 

r 


„„j        ^  ALDKANK. 

liomo,  with  a  fiHliiiiij-nxl  on  ».ii«'  KliouMtt,  nnd  a  punt 
over  tlu-  olli.r,  lie  M-t  <.tV,  rullnwcd  l>y  \\\^  lavorit»'  .Ink-, 
and  n'tnrncd  at  niL'lit,  tlvislifd  with  oxt-n-im',  carrying  a 
l.raco  i.r  ral.lMtH,  wiiilc  his  allt-ndant  b(.ro  in  tri»m|iii  a 
Mtrinvc  of  tisli,  wliith  lii-  (hclart'd,  with  admiration, 
"  Vomm  Mass'r  done  cotihi'd  all  by    iiisKt'lf!" 

"  Kra^ik,"  HJiid  AhU'ano,  lauijrhiiip,  "  how  do  you  exist 
at  school,  where  yon  can  not  hnnty" 

"Well,  it  is  hard  work  sun-  cnou^'h  I"  he  replied,  "hut 
ril  make  up  for  it  now  thai  1  am  at  home,  hesid.s 
Chauncev  (iardner  and  I  have  pledged  each  othei-  for 
a  iino  ten  .layis'  hunt  next  vacati.jn.  1  wish  he  wa«  here 
now,  he  is  a  splendid  fellow.  Now  tlu-re's  Kd,  fit  for 
nothing  but  to  follow  mamma  or  you  all  over  the  house; 

pshaw!" 

"  Vou  are  altogether  mistaken,  Frank,  Edward  wdl  be 
the  woiuler  of  the  family  yet,  he  has  taken  to  studying 
u^  of  late,  that  1  really  believe  he  is  as  far  advanced  in 
many  studies  aH  you  are.  Be  careful,  sir,  or  you  will  find 
your  laurels  gone,  and  crowning  Edward's  brgw !" 

Frank,  laughing  heartily,  turned  and  glanced  at  his 
brother.     "  AVhat  profession  shall  you  choose  ?"  he  abkcd 

merrily.  ^       ^^ 

"  I  am  going  to  study  medicine  with  Uncle  Fred,'  he 
returned  quietly,  then  turned  away  annoyed  and  ashamed 
by  the  burst  of  laughter  with  which  Frank  greeted  this 
announcement. 

Frank  was  at  his  side  in  a  moment.  "  I  hope  you  will 
be  successful,"  lie  said.  "J  shall  always  be  a  lazy  fellow. 
You  must  redeem  the  name  of  the  family  from  oblivion 
1)V  your  good  works.  I  will  stay  at  home  and  take  care 
of  tiie  negroes  and  plantation,  while  you  ride  aliout  dis- 
pensing bitter  pills  and  draughts,  to  your  heart's  content, 
and  the  discontent  and  benefit  of  every  one  else." 

Aldeane  left  the  boys  in  earnest  debate,  and  went  to  n- 
mind  Mrs.  Arcndell  that  it  was  time  to  send  the  carriage 


to 
th( 

f 

mo 

Ai 

giv 

full 

of^ 

spe 

the: 

I. 

drei 

her. 

lipa 

her 

to  h 

self 

resif 

but 

pirei 

slept 

rej)o 

into 

and 

upor 

lier  1 

clasj; 

parti 

Or 

that 

Coloi 

healt 

sadd< 

on  ot 

joicec 

listen 


8ho»ililfr ,  nnd  a  pun 
l»y  Ills  favdiit*'  .IiiU', 
J  extToiso,  currying  ii 
ml  bore  in  triiiinpli  a 
.'J,  witli  atlnuration, 
by  hi«Kt'lt'!" 
pf,  "  how  do  you  exiwt 

gh  :"  lu'  ropliod,  "  but 
iin  at  lionic,  bf^idts 
edgt'il  I'aih  otlun*  lor 
,  I  wish  hi'  was  hero 
>w  thi-ri-'s  K(l,  fit  lor 
ou  all  over  llu-  house; 

'"rank,  Edward  will  be 
has  taken  to  studying 
■  is  as  far  advanced  in 
"ul,  sir,  or  you  will  find 
Id  ward's  brgw !" 
d  and  glaneed  at  his 
you  choose  ¥"  he  asked 

with  Uncle  Fred,"  he 
'  annoyed  and  ashamed 
ich  Frank  greeted  this 

L'ut.  "  I  hope  you  will 
dwaya  V)e  a  lazy  fellow. 
L-  family  from  oblivion 

at  home  and  take  can- 
ile  you  ride  al)OUt  dis- 
to  your  heart's  content, 
every  one  else." 

debate,  and  went  to  ri-- 
tnc  to  send  the  carriage 


T 


A  m  RA  y/r. 


808 


TI.e  next  .lny,  howev.-r,  tl.ey  arrived.  Loonore  ('..r 
rnore  tn.g.Ie  than  when  si...  h,>,  \,,.s  „!.,  more  .  a  ,i  „" 
A  lan,t  glow  pnul,.....,,  ,,v  ..x..i,,,„.,„t  ,i,.,,,,,  ,,,;;,';'• 
K.vmg  a  b,-,g  .,  ,.,st..,-  t..  !...,•  hrg..  ..yes,  whi..h  sho  .  fi,! 
fully  and  wd.ily  fron.  out  her  thin  fhee.'     She  wept    ..as 

H,...ik    to    AI,U.a,u.,    to     ...vpress    h,.-  joy    a.  seeing     he. 

After  (he  nr.isy  gr,.,..ings  n,,,n  the  sorvants  and  chil- 
dren were  over,  a  feeling  of  i,„..„s,  f,,igue  ovrwhehned 
u"r.     A  deane  notie.-.!  ,1...  ,,,.d„al   paling  of  ehe  .k  " 
.pS  and  the  weariness  that  lay  in  her  eyel     She  p,.s 
.or  to  drn,k  a  glass  of  win,.,  and  tlu-n  n'seend...!  w    Iho 
to  her  ow,.  room.     Sh.-  s....„..,|  „.„,,.  „tteo,ed  to  find  her 
selt  on....  .„or..  within  its  |ov...l  and  peaceful  shelte       U. . 
res.sungly  slu;  sutf.  n-d  Aldean,-  to  „ndr..ss  her  ;  sh.^  asked 
but    ewq„..s,.ons,an.l  said   nothing  of  what   had     m 
p.red  dunng  h..,-  abs..n.....     The  bed  npon  win..      h  >  h    1 
Hlopt  irom  ehildhoo.1,  s..eme.l  to  invite  her  o    .    „    r 
repose  ;  ...vhausted  both  in  body  and  nund,  slu.  soo  k 

into  a  deep  sleep.  Aldeane  bent  over  M.e  dvin-.  beat  v 
and  sorr.>w.ng  saw  how  plai.dy  her  doom  was"^sta  npc5 
upon  her  brow  She  lilU..l  the  white  hand  that  lav  Ion 
her  bosom,  an.l  saw  George  Uayn.ond's  lik..n..ss  ii.I  tl" 
c  xpe.  wuhn.  u.  She,I,-opp...,  ,  kiss  upon  the  sli:;h  ly 
par  ed  l.ps,  ami  left  lu-r  to  her  oal.n  re,,.'s..  "     ^ 

tlm"t^Tin'r/r  'K  ''r'"^-«'"'  ^'-'^aw  with  jov 
>at  the  rip  had  ben..fite.l  at  least  one  of  the  nart^ 
<. lonel  Aren,lell  seenu.d  to  have  reeover..d  the'^S 
heal  h  .^„..h  he  had  enjoyed  in  forn.er  vea.s;  h  s  spi, " 
sa.ldened  by  the  evid.-nt  dissolution  of  his  fa  orite  •  ihl' 
on  other  subjects  were  hop.fnl  ,,,,  ,„.ova«t.  II..  wa  '  ': 
jo.ced  once  m.,re  to  be  in  th.  boson/.,f  his  famiiv  a  d 
hstened  attentively  to  the  tales  the  children  rela  Jd  of 


.:.. 

I 


804 


ALDhAX/J. 


tlu'lr  ])ro<;rpsM  dnriiij;  liin  iibKeiu-o,  and  in  return  rt'Iated 
miinf  of  liin  own  advriituii's. 

AfU-r  an  tsirly  ton  the  cliililrcii  were  dinmiRRed.  nnd 
('••loiiil  and  .Mrs.  Aitndcll  willi  Aldc.'inc jjrathcicd  around 
tlir  tire,  to  lu'ur  of  tliu.sc  niun-  muIuuui  i.>v«.'ntH  tliut  had 
rc'contly  trnnHpirnl. 

Colonel  Arendell  spoke  of  Mrs.  MorL;an'H  death  in 
toneH  of  quiet  sorrow.  "Tlioui,'li  ;;enlle  and  lieautiful," 
he  remarked,  "  nhe  was  totally  unlit  to  he  Frederic's 
Avife,  Cold  and  inipassionless  herself,  she  eould  never 
comprehend  or  assimilate  with  his  anient,  impulsive  na- 
ture. She  seeini'il  to  esteem  and  n-spect  him,  hut  nev«'r 
to  give  liim  that  true,  deep  love,  which  lie  erave<l.  In 
return,  Fred,  I  am  sure,  regarded  lier  with  that  ntVeetion 
wliieh  we  hestow  upon  a  lovely  child.  Though  perfectly 
devoted  to  lier  in  her  sickness,  lie  mourned  not  her 
death  as  the  direful  loss  of  a  loving  wife — hut  rather  as 
that  of  a  petted  child,  whoso  prattle  he  would  miss,  und 
•whose  beauty  he  could  no  more  liojte  to  behold." 

Aldi'ar.e  found  a  t\\v  tears  trickling  through  her  fin- 
gers, as  she  bent  her  head  upon  her  hand  and  thought  of 
the  tiurly  dead.  No  tliought  but  of  pity  and  sorrow 
entered  her  mind,  as  she  listened  to  Colonel  Arendell's 
account  of  her  lingering  and  jiainful  illness  and  death. 

All  retired  early  to  rest.  Aldeane  went  in  to  look 
at  Lconore.  She  still  slept,  breathing  heavily,  and  turn- 
ing restlessly.  Aldeane  sighed  as  she  marked  these  and 
other  symptoms  of  the  fell  disease  that  had  marked  her 
for  its  victim.  She  remembered  Annie,  and  shuddered 
to  think  that  this  beautiful  and  amiable  young  creature 
80  soon  also  would  sleep  the  last  long  sleep  that  knows  no 
earthly  waking. 


woi 
thoi 
of  > 
frerj 
as  « 

\ 

ling 
Leo  I 
liste 

dxvcl 
.Man 
Iate(i 
audit 
often 
poem 


she  wi 
death. 
The 
the  fai 
longed 


1 


ami  in  rctum  rt'lntcd 

1  wcri'  (lisniisKt'd.  ami 
ilcimt'jjratlicicd  arouiul 
jlumii  cvi'iitH  tliut  hud 

M.  ^f(>I•l;aIl's  dtatli  ill 
Ltciillc  uikI  Ittautil'iil," 
iiilit  t(i  l)t'  Krt'di'ric'H 
isi'lt",  slu'  cduld  iH'vcr 
ardfiit,  iiupiilsivc  iia- 
n'spcct  him,  Imt  iwwv 
which  h«'  oiavfd.  in 
luT  with  tiiat  alU'ftioii 
ild.  Tiioutiii  |K'rl'i'i'tly 
lie  moiii'iK'd  not  litT 
ifi  wife — l)Ut  rather  an 
k'  liu  wouhl  inisH,  uad 
)]Kt  to  bt'hold." 
kliiitj  throuufh  her  fin- 
r  liaiid  and  tliouglit  of 
it  of  pity  and  norrow 
to  Colonel  Arendell's 
d  illness  and  death, 
•anc  went  in  to  look 
liinij  heavily,  and  turn- 
she  marked  these  and 
3  that  had  marked  her 
Annie,  and  shuddered 
miable  young  creature 
tig  sloop  that  knowH  no 


CIIAPTEII    XXXI. 

THE   DIIOOPIV..    KI.OWKK    K.VI.KX 

"A  feeling  of  aadnos3,ni)d  longing 
That  is  nor  akin  to  j.aiu, 
And  resembles  sorrow  onlr, 
As  tho  mist  rcsomblos  the'  ruin," 


I 


306 


A  LDEAKE. 


cvcrlastinsr  floAVors.  She  liad  proparcd  her  soul  for  the 
great  chaiiffe  that  liad  come  upon  her.  Siio  liad  knelt  at 
tlic  Saviour's  feet,  ami  drawn  oonsolation  and  i'aitli  from 
His  teadiinns.  The  Hililo  was  tlie  only  voliime  upon 
which  she  now  looked  with  pleasure,  or  from  wliicli 
Aldeane  could  draw  aught  to  arouse  her  feeliniis,  and 
compose  her  mind. 

As  the  months  fled,  the  tender  watchers  around  her 
eaw  that  she  was  quickly  passing  away,  (ienlly,  and 
without  pain,  she  was  hastening  downward  to  the  tomb; 
hastily  her  frail  bark  was  gliding  down  the  river  of  life, 
and  Hearing  the  dark  shores  of  eternity,  but  to  her  they 
were  fair  and  beautiful  •,  the  house  of  her  God  in  all  its 
celestial  grandeur  stood  ready  to  receive  her,  and  angels 
to  bear  to  its  inmost  courts.  Ere  ilay  had  scattered  all 
its  wealth  of  beauty  over  the  earth,  Leonore  lay  down 
upon  h.  ;•  couch,  never  more  to  tread  the  paths  now  redo- 
lent with  sweets,  or  to  gaze  upon  the  luxuriance  of  the 
blushing  month. 

Too  weak  to  sit  up  unless  supported  by  pillows,  she 
reclined  upon  her  bed,  which  was  drawn  close  to  the 
window,  that  she  might  breathe  the  sweet  fragrance  from 
the  garden  below,  ;uul  catch  glimi)ses  of  its  beauty. 

Altogether  released  from  the  duties  of  the  school-room, 
Aldeane  remained  constantly  with  her,  devoting  herself 
to  the  task  of  attending  upon  her,  night  and  day  she  was 
alike  at  her  ])ost,  snatching  a  few  moments'  sleep  at 
uncertain  intervals,  and  seeking  air  only  when  she  ran 
into  the  garden  at  early  niorn,  to  cull  the  sweetest  buds 
for  the  invalid  when  the  dew  was  still  upon  them.  No 
other  seemed  to  smooth  the  pillows  so  well,  or  t<i  pre- 
pare each  little  dainty  so  delicately  ;  no  voice  was  toned 
so  low,  yet  so  distinctly  as  hers,  and  above  all,  none,  not 
even  her  tender  mother,  seemed  so  well  to  understand 
her  bruised  heart,  and  to  guard  its  secrets  so  carefully. 
When  Aldeane  left  the  room,  she  would  never  speak  of 


he 
em 

pla 

< 

for 

tall 

spe 

as  SI 

nic( 

acci 

lefl 

S 

men 

to  ] 

cipa 

deat 

as  s 

hira 

She 

niigl 

stren 

lettei 

begg 

buria 

be  till 

the  n 

ing  h^ 

the  A\ 

ended 

She 

sceme 

power 

dark  a 

his  CO 

assurei 

to  her, 


'pared  hor  soul  for  the 
her.  Siio  had  knelt  at 
solatioii  and  I'aitli  from 
lie  only  vtilume  iiimii 
?asuro,  or  from  wliicli 
■oHse  her  fi-eliniis,  and 

r  watehers  around  her 
lij;  away.  Gently,  and 
iownward  to  the  tomb; 

down  the  river  of  life, 
ternity,  but  to  her  they 
,0  of  her  Ciod  in  all  its 

receive  her,  and  angels 
'  iliiy  had  scattered  all 
irth,  Leonore  lay  down 
cad  the  paths  now  redo- 
[i  the  luxuriance  of  the 

ppoi-ted  by  pillows,  she 
'^as  drawn  close  to  the 
he  sweet  fragrance  from 
ipses  of  its  beauty, 
ities  of  the  school-room, 
h  her,  devoting  herself 
•,  night  and  day  she  was 
few  moments'  sleep  at 
air  only  when  she  ran 
cull  the  sweetest  buds 
18  still  upon  them.  No 
lows  so  well,  or  t<i  pre- 
'ly  ;  no  voice  was  toned 
and  above  all,  none,  not 
I  so  well  to  understand 
its  secrets  so  carefully, 
e  would  never  speak  of 


A  LI)  EA  A'  ff. 


807 


f.wu    1   .      1  -'i.iuiL  loss  tlic\  were  about  to  sustain      Slie 

i-n,..  ,.,u,„  .:;;.:„  ::;V;;:;';:,r '""""'' '"' 

Ml.;  «n„l   li„l,.  of  Goorsc.  l!av,„o,„l.  '   Sl,<.  f,.|,   ,|„t 

pmse.lessly,  she  awaited  the    approach  of  Azrael  •    lis 
a»»u,..,l  „,„  fa,„ily'.l,„c  onlv  uLdt  o  IT""'      " 


308 


A  IDEA  NE. 


room.  Frank  liml  bccir  recalled  from  school,  and  im 
usual  he  came  in  with  the  other  diildren  o  l.i.l  Leonore 
cood-nitiht.  The  i)artinij  was  more  tender  than  usual. 
Eddie  and  Jessie  went  away  weeping  silently  wit5<,  ?v 
bitter  pain  thev  could  not  understand  <:raspiii,i;  their 
youn<j;  hearts.  Frank,  struck  by  the  coldness  of  the  hand 
lie  held,  and  the  spiritual  beauty  of  tlu-  wan  lace,  wliis- 
jiered  to  his  mother: — 

"  I  can  not  <jo ;  please  let  me  stay." 
!She  nodded  asselit,  and  he  took  his  station  at  the  foot 
of  the  bed,  watching  intently  every  change  tliat  passed 
over  his  sister's  face. 

A  dim  taper  burned  at  one  end  of  the  room;  the  moon 
shone  brightly  through  the  windows  Irom  which  the 
curtains  had  been  drawn  back,  that  Lcoi.ore  might  once 
more  gaze  upon  the  glorious  effulgence  of  the  summer 
niixht.  The  silvery  rays  lay  lightly  upon  the  form  of  the 
dying  girl,  and  over  the  silent  group  gathered  around 

her.  '  ^ 

The  family  physician  with  Colonel  Arendell  stood  at 
the  head  of *the  bed,  while  Aldeane  and  Mrs.  Arendell 
sat  one  on  each  side,  oft.u  moving  noiselessly  from  their 
stations  to  brim:  sonu"  strengthening  draught  or  restor- 
ative,    heonorc  lav  .luietly  Ijreathing  her  life  away ;  her 
eyes  tjazing  steadily  forward,  their  luster  each  monient 
growinti  fainter.     Tier  mind  seemed  entirely  gone.     The 
doctor  "administered  a  i)Owerful  stimulant,  which  for  a 
short  time  aroused  her  dormant  fucultiis.    She  recognized 
those  who  stood  near  her,  and  calmly  bade  them  farewell, 
giving  to  each  some  word  of  cheer,  and  as  they  wept 
feebly  exhorted  them  not  to  grieve,  for  she  was  about  to 
outer  into  eternal  bliss,  where  she  should  never  more  feel 
sorrow  or  pain.     Aldeane  she  sweetly  thanked  for  all  her 
care  and  love,  and  clasping  her  arms  arou-.ul  her  begged 
that  she  would  repeat  the  psalm  she  had  herself  read  to 
dyimr  Al)el.     Ti.ough  tears  choked  her  voice,  Aldeane 


1 


E. 

\  from  school,  and  im 
•liildron  o  l»i»l  Lconorc 
loro  tt'iulcr  than  usual, 
■coping  silently  wit)-,  w 
crstand  <;rasi)in<;  their 
the  coldness  of  I  ho  hand 
y-  of  the  wan  face,  wliis- 

tay." 

k  his  station  at  the  foot 

cry  change  that  passed 

I  of  the  room ;  the  moon 
ndows  from  which  the 
liat  Lconore  might  once 
fulgence  of  the  summer 
itly  \\\Mn  the  form  of  the 
gro\ip  gathered  around 

slonel  Arendell  stood  at 
cane  and  ^Nlrs.  Arendell 
iig  noiselessly  from  their 
icning  draught  or  restor- 
ithing  her  life  away;  her 
licir  Ulster  each  moment 
med  entirely  gone.     The 
il  stimulant,  which  for  a 
faculties.    She  recognized 
almly  bade  them  farewell, 
ciiecr,  and  as  they  wept 
eve,  for  she  was  about  to 
lie  should  never  more  feel 
weetly  thanked  for  all  her 
arms  arou:ul  her  begged 
m  she  had  herself  read  to 
lokeil  her  voice,  Aldeane 


ALU  la  AXE. 


800 


omphed,  and  then  sang  a  sweet  and  favorite  hvnm,  b„t 
Leonore  ag.nn  sank  >nto  a  sta.c  of  apparent  inse.'isibiiitv  • 
.tl  e.vpccted  to  see  her  spirit  take  i,s  Hight ;  she  lav  "s. 
St.  1  that  they  almost  believed  her  alreadv  dead.  The 
l.ght  was  fadn.g  from  her  eyes,  but  once  more  they  were 
■Kh  ."d  up  the  deep-toned  clock  upon  the  stain-ase  ra  , 
lo  h  the  hour  of  nine.  She  starte,!  slightly  from  le;: 
pillow,  and  cried  faintly:— 

"  (ieorgc.,  my  .lading,  M'ait  for  me  !  The  str.nn  rushes 
by,  and  the  water  is  deep;  clasp  u.o  ia  vour  arms,  and 
M-e  wdl  brave  tlie  torrent  tofrother '"        ' 

She  then  sank  back,  exhausted  by  ,ho  HVort.  All  for  the 
hrst  tune  ren,en.bered  that  this  was  .ho  anniversarv  of 

that  Mr.  Hlake  ha.l  heard  h,s  v.-icc  i„  ,1k.  storm.  To  her 
dj^ng  nuagmation  had  been  clearly  presented  all  the  hor- 
lors  ot  the  awtui  scene. 

All  knelt  around  the  bed,  a.,d  the  words  of  prayer 
arose  anud  the  sobs  of  the  mourners.  The  voice  of  1  ^ 
heart-broken  was  deep  with  anguish  as  he  petitioned 
eternal  fehc.ty  for  his  child,  and  comfort  for  hose  who 
were  to  be  bereaved. 

Thc.y  arose  from  their  knees  and  gazed  once  mor..  upon 
<  I'e  dying  g,rl.     H,.r  face  for  a  moment  became  ^rloricms 
••"Hi  her  l,ps  nrnved.     CV.Ionel  Arendell  bent  ea^rly  fo  -' 
ward  and  caught  the  whisper,  "  \Vith  thee!  in  heav"en  at 

The  light  fa.led  from  her  eyes,  her  brow  .rew  dark 
ami  her  father  covered  his  face  with  his  han.ls,  that  hJ 
imght  not  see  her  die.     Sobs  alone  broke  the  itillness 
Jor  a  few  moments  not  a  voice  was  heard;  then  arose 
that  of  the  doctor,  who  had  bent  over  her,  sayi„..-! 
She  sleeps  in  Jesus."  '     °' 

Her  spirit  had  indeed  returned  to  the  God  who  gave  it 
Leonore  Arendell  was  numbered  with  the  angels. 


310 


ALDEANE. 


"  For  her  the  heavenly  gate  was  moved  so  gently  from  its  portnl, 
The  tender  watchers  scarcely  knew  wlien  she  became  immortal." 

A  wail  ot'ai^ony  broke  from  each  dpsolate  heart.  Not 
a  tear  drojiped  from  Colonel  Areiidell  as  he  bent  in  stony 
grief  over  the  form  of  his  beloved  child.  Mrs.  Arendell, 
on  the  contrary,  cave  vent  to  the  most  heart-rending 
cries;  with  their  arms  aroimd  each  otlier,  Frank  and  slie 
wept  heart-brokenly,  (."aim  and  self-posuessed,  thongh 
grieving  even  as  dee])ly  as  they,  Aldeane  turned  from  the 
beautiful  dead  to  comfort  the  mourners.  She  soon  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  them  from  the  room;  to  Colonel  Aren- 
dell she  couhi  say  nothing.  The  deepest  agony  was 
depicted  uj>on  liis  countenance.  The  doctor  took  his  arm 
to  lead  him  away;  he  looked  up  wihlly,  and  a  low,  bitter 
moan  broke  from  his  li|)s. 

"  ^ly  dear  colonel,  I  lieg  you  to  come  away  !"  said  the 
kind-hearted  gentleman.  "Think  of  your  wife  —  liow 
much  she  needs  your  s\ip])ort  at  this  trying  hour." 

Here  a  servant  entereil,  and  said  that  Mrs.  Arendell 
was  in  violent  hysterics.  With  a  word  of  entreaty  to  the 
colonel,  he  left  the  room.  Bending  to  impress  one  long, 
lingering  kiss  upon  the  sweetly  smiling  lips  of  his  dead 
daughter,  the  desolate  father  left  the  chamber,  and  a  mo- 
ment afterward  Aldeane  lu-ard  the  dang  of  the  library 
door,  and  knew  that  he  had  shut  himself  in  to  indulge  his 
speechless  grief. 

A  number  of  servants  had  crowded  into  the  room,  and 
were  loudly  lamenting  the  death  of  their  young  mistress. 
Almost  distracted  by  the  Confusion  that  prevailed,  Aldeane 
ordered  all  but  Aunt  \\o\y  and  Zettie  to  leave  the  room. 
Slowly  and  sorrowfully  they  obeyed,  and  those  that  re- 
mained were  ere  long  engaged  in  the  sacred  task  of  robing 
the  dead  for  burial.  They  found  one  liand  resting  upon 
her  bosom,  tight  clasping  the  miniature  of  Raymond;  it 
was  not  withdrawn,  but  jK>rmitte<l  still  to  rest  upon  the 
heart  that  had  cherished  the  original  so  long  and  Ihtally. 


I'l 
\> 

in 

to 

et 

H( 

W( 

I)r; 
fac 
ke( 

J 

vai 

wa 

arr 

iipc 

rest 

life 

side 

atti 

well 

won 

to  h 

Ald( 

pity 

her  1 

preci 
heav 
into 
hand 
Al 
leanii 
the  c 
the  Ic 
till— 


E. 

ao  gently  from  its  portnl, 
lien  she  became  immortal." 

ich  (Ipsolatc  heart.  Not 
itU'll  as  ho  bent  in  stony 
1  <'liild.  iVIis.  Arondt'll, 
tlio  most  ht'ivrt-rciuliiit^ 
fh  otlior,  Frank  anil  slii' 
i  9oU-|)08i»essc'd,  tliough 
\kleani'  turned  from  tlie 
lourners,  8hu  soon  suc- 
room;  to  Colonel  A  ren- 
riie  deepest  apony  was 
The  doetor  took  his  arm 
wihlly,  and  a  low,  bitter 

0  eomc  away  !"  said  the 
nk  of  your  wife  —  how 
this  trying  hour." 

said  that  Mrs.  Arendell 

1  word  of  entreaty  to  the 
iing  to  impress  one  long, 

smiling  lips  of  his  dead 
;  the  eliamber,  and  a  mo- 
he  clang  of  the  library 
himself  in  to  indulge  his 

rt'detl  into  the  room,  and 
of  their  young  mistress, 
n  that  prevailed,Aldeane 
Zettie  to  leave  the  room. 
pyed,  and  those  that  rc- 
the  sacred  task  of  robing 
d  one  liand  resting  upon 
iniaturc  of  Raymond ;  it 
e<l  still  to  rest  ujion  the 
;inal  so  long  and  Ihtally. 


ALDEANE. 


311 


As   Leonoro  had  d,.sired,  the  gannent.s  that  had  been 
prepared  for  her  wedding  Ibrmed  those   of  the    ^r  " 
^Y'en  nil  was  finished,  Aldeane  left  the  roon    wiU   th e 
mtent.on  of  going  to  her  own.     In  the  hall  she  met  Do 
or  C  rey ;  ho  tohl  h.-r  that  Mrs.  Arendell  was  sleepi  g  '? ," 

lie  begged  her  to  try  to  obtain  resf  •    l.,.f  ♦!         L     , 
-nth.oherehambc^,itwa;':;r;:\:!X^^ 
pray  lor  strength  and  comfort ;  then  bathing  he'b,  nl^ 

keep  >vat  -h  beside  the  beautiful  elay  of  Leonore 
A  dim  hght  shone  in  the  room  as  she  entered.    The  ser- 

T. a    drawn  ,h,wn,  revealing  the  beautiful  form  of  L  .1 ,! 
ariayed  m  pearly  silk  and  costly  lace-  the  h-irul«  V   7 
upon  the  breast,  were  wa.xen  a.^d  whi'te  tu       ti,  S 
rested  upon  hps  and  cheeks,  giving  almost  the  warm  h  of 
l.h.  to  the  mmiovable  features.    Colonel  ArendeH  k™  t  be 
8.<le  the  low  cou.h,  one  ur.n  thrown  over  the  bod       n 
attuude  of  utter  abandonment.   At  X\.Z^loUslC2 
well-known  footsteps,  he  lifted  his  h.-.d   '„;     j 
;v.ndertUlychangeii.ygHe,:ini;::^t.^'^^^^^^ 
to  have  grown  years  older.    Wearily  he  arose.    Xotic^g 
A  .k.,ne  s  pale  an.l  tear-stai„e.l  c-ou  tenaru-e,  a  feelin^  of 

"  ;iou,  too,"  he  sai.1,  "have  come  to  grieve  over  tliis 
prenouscluld.  O  God  J  why  was  thf  retributL  t^ 
|»^^^  .  A  groati  con.pleted  the  sentence,  a.id  he  vank 
into    a    chair,  coverin-    his    fice    witl.    j  •  • 

hands.  -  ^""^    quivering 

Aldeane  went  to  the  other  side  of  the  bed  and  sat  down 
eaning  her  head  upon  her  hand,  and  fixing  ,"evcV:i; 
he  calm,  sweet  face  of  the  precious  dead.     Thus  b     a 
long,sUeut  vigil  of  the  two  mourners,  that  ended  no 


812  ALDEAKE. 

"  Tlio  stars  went  softly  back  to  heaven, 
Tho  night  fogs  rolled  away, 
Anil  rims  ofpold  and  crowns  of  crirason 
Along  the  )iill-top3  lay." 

Two  days  later  thoy  ])laoc'(l  Loonore  An'iidell — she 
who,  in  each  loving  soul,  was  named  the  brok.  n-hearted — 
beside  her  lover.  And  for  months,  no  gleam  of  joy  dwelt 
in  Arendell  House.  Yet  even  the  saddest  there  eould  not 
but  feel  that  to  her  who  was  taken  the  change  was  glori- 
ous ;  for  had  she  lived  it  would  have  been  as  a  broken- 
hearted woman.  She  had  not  been  blessed  with  tho 
strength  of  mind  which  wotild  have  enabled  her  to  rise 
above  the  terrible  sorrow  that  had  fallen  upon  her  young 
life.  And  knowing  all  this,  resignation  tempered  the 
grief  of  her  friends ;  not  sueh  resignation  as  is  but  an- 
other name  for  callousness,  but  that  which  through  tears 
exclaims,  "  The  Lord  knoweth  best.  The  will  of  the  Lord 
be  done." 

And  it  was  with  such  feelings  as  these  Aldeane  penned 
the  following  lines,  lines  which,  perhaps,  comforted  more 
than  any  other  words  could  have  done,  the  bruised  heart 
of  the  remorseful  and  penitent  father.  He  called  them 
his  comfort,  but  the  writer  named  them — 

"THE    ANGEL   DEATH. 

"  The  gates  of  Heaven  ope'd  wide  one  day, 

And  an  angel  left  its  peaceful  shade, 
And  sped  to  earth  his  quiet  way. 
Full  mournful  was  his  solemn  lay. 

Like  spirit  raoanings  as  they  fade. 

*'  Sable  and  glistening  were  his  wings, 
And  shadows  ever  around  him  dwelt 

As  coldness  which  the  autumn  brings, 

When  early  frost  around  it  clings. 
So  was  the  angel's  presence  felt. 


)  heaven, 
I  of  crimiion 

A'onore  An-iidell — sbc 
d  the  brok.  n-hcartcd — 
,  no  gleam  of  joy  <hvelt 
lafldost  there  eould  not 
1  the  change  was  glori- 
lave  been  as  a  brokeii- 
)een  blessed  with  tlie 
ve  enabled  her  to  riw 
fallen  upon  her  young 
gnalion  tempered  the 
ignation  as  is  but  an- 
at  which  through  tears 
;.    Tlie  will  of  the  Lord 

1  these  Aldeane  penned 
■rhaps,  comforted  more 
ilone,  the  bruised  heart 
ither.  He  called  them 
them — 

EA.TH. 

ride  one  day, 
eful  shade, 
way. 
n  lay, 
ley  fade. 

is  wings, 
him  dwelt 
ran  brings, 
clings, 
20  felt. 


ALDEANE. 

"The  silvery  tresses  of  the  moon 

Lay  on  the  bosom  of  the  quiet  air, 
A  wob  of  tracery,  tliat  soon 
Would  vani=!h  in  the  ducp'ning  gloom, 
That  comes  before  tlie  diiylight  fair. 

"The  angol  with  his  powerful  liaiids 
The  beauteous  radiance  quickly  clefl, 
And  far  behind  him  lay  th-"  bands, 
Like  shadows  on  the  desert  sands,' 
Of  rolling  darkness  ho  had  left. ' 

"  He  touched  tlie  golden  harp  ho  bore— 
And  lingering  numbers  sweot  and  low, 
Whispered  to  earth  the  mystic  lore, 
By  which  the  seraphs  God  implore' 
Mercy  on  erring  man  below. 

"  To  one  on  earth  that  sound  was  lieard. 

And  smiles  of  peace  passed  o'er  her  'face- 
Like  clearest  notes  of  joyous  bird, 
She  seemed  to  hear  the  heavenly 'word- 
'  Come  rest  ye,  child  of  love  and  grace  • 

•'She  lay  upon  her  couch  so  fair; 

Bright  through  the  casement  looked  the  moon. 
And  bars  of  silver  on  her  hair. 
Gleamed  softly  white  and  strangelv  there, 
Like  sunbeams  through  a  darkened  room. 

"  She  knew  that  through  the  casement  low 
Came  in  the  angel— Death,  ' 

She  heard  the  rush  of  his  dark  wings  slow, 
She  saw  strange  light  around  Lira  glow. 
And  felt  his  withering  breath. 

"Her  hands  wero  clasped  upon  her  breast— 

Her  eyes  looked  up  to  heaven  ; 
Sho  knew  not  those  who  round  her  pressed 
She  sa*v  alone  her  endless  rest— 
Her  tlioughts  from  earth  wore  ri7en 
H 


313 


314 


A  IDEA  NR 


"  Bitter  they  wept  on  earth  that  u\ght ; 
For  the  spirit  so  lovciy  nnd  kind, 
llail  taVen  to  <iod  its  joyous  (light — 
To  its  home  of  beauty  and  coascless  llght- 
And  nad  left  but  a  smile  behind." 


at 
)i( 
111 

IK 
<)\ 

Al 
Ai 


gri 

qu 

j)af 

bu 

api 

paf 

nil 

liin 

of'l 

'J 

fior 

wit 

Eac 


t  night ; 
kind, 
ight— 

iReleHS  lights 
hind." 


C II  APT  Kit    XXXII, 


RKTUUH  riO.V   IlKcilXS. 

TiiK  Hununer  came  slowly  on.ca^tinir  its  wealth  of  fra- 
pran,.,.  an.l  beauty  over  the  earth,  li.tle  heede.l  by  those 
at  Are.Kle  11  House.  Death  tails  with  a  sho,-k  uno„*lovi„.. 
hearts,  and  thouph  long  c.vpecte.l,  it  hiul  not  fhile.l  to 
make  its  due  imj.ression  there.  Still  so  deenlv  was  Lco- 
nore  niourned,  that  a  solemn  feeling  of  lon..|i«ess  hun-r 
<>ver  all.  Mrs.  Arendell  spoke  of  her  with  <,uiet  tears"^ 
Aldeane  thought  of  her  very  sorrowfullv;  but  Colonel 
Areiulell  seemed  totally  changed  by  grief! 


"  The  siilphiirous  riftH  of  passion  and  woo 


Lay  deep  'nealh  a  Kurfaco  ptiro  and  smooth- 
Like  burnt-out  craters  healed  with  snow." 

Calmly  and  gently,  never  mentioning  her,  for  whom  lie 
grieved  so  deeply,  he  attended  to  his  duties.  More  fir- 
quontly  than  ever  he  retired  to  his  libriry,  where,  as  she 
passed  the  windows,  Aldeane  would  see  him  with  his  fa.-e 
buried  111  his  hands,  or  with  weary  steps  pacin.r  the 
apartment.  Often,  too,  he  went  to  Leonore's  grave  an<l 
passed  the  closing  hours  of  day  in  lonely  reverie.  Not 
all  the  gentle  wiles  of  his  wife  and  children  could  win 
hitn  from  fhe  over-mastering  grief  for  the  loss  of  the  child 
ot  his  first  lovo. 

To  Aldeane  the  days  passed  drearily.  Stillness  and 
sorrow  at  home,  required  the  brightness  of  joy  from 
without,  to  cheer  and  comfort  her;  but  this  came  not. 
itach  letter  from  Arthur  brought  some  fresh  tale  of  dis- 


nio 


A  LDEANE. 


ii'^tcr.  Nevins  was  at  work  most  l)itterly  r„'aiiist  i>lm. 
Tlic  uiifortiiimlc  Inss  of  a  most  important  case,  tiinicd  tlw 

|K. pillar  I iili' still  mniT  against  liim.     Mr.   IlaU ihc  lia^i 

willulrawii  iVinn  tlic  firm,  and  was  liis  successful  ri\  al. 
Artliiir  was  pcrt'cctly  <liscourat:c'l,  aii.l  even  Mr.  Ashton 
had  \w<i\m  to  despair  of  liis  ultimat(!  success.  It  was 
concluiled  that  Arthur  must  leave  lioston  and  seek  pros- 
perity elsewliero.  With  many  tears,  IJelle  lieard  this  de- 
cision, and  for  some  time  could  not  consent  to  m'ive  up 
her  In'autifiil  new  home,  and  find  a  lowlier  elsewhere  :  but 
I'or  even  this  she  was  jtrepared,  when  a  most  unexi)ected 
event  turn  the  tide  of  atVairs. 

A  rumor  was  whispered  in  Boston  one  day,  that  tiie 
wealthy  and  aristocratic  Jonas  Nevins  had  lieeii  arrested. 
None  knew  for  Avhat.  The  v  oice  <jjrew  louder  and  louder, 
and  at  last  the  astoundinfj;  Intel liaenee  spread  over  the 
city,  that  the  alleged  crime  was  perjury. 

Arthur  (Juthrie  was  not  seen  much  upon  the  streets  at 
this  time,  for  he  shunned  inquiry,  but  the  curious  i)ublic, 
inten-ted  as  they  suddenly  became  upon  Ids  affairs,  wouM 
have  1  'cen  far  more  so,  had  they  known  that  the  cjcntleman, 
who  frequented  his  house  in  company  with  ]Mr.  Ashton 
and  Charles  Evans,  was  the  mysterious  prosecutor  of  the 
renowned  Jonas  Nevins. 

Aldeane  was,  of  course,  immediately  apprised  of  what 
had  occurred,  or  at  least  as  much  of  it  as  was  known  to  the 
j)ublic.  Arthur,  for  reasons  best  known  to  himself,  kept 
back  many  particulars,  which  she  intuitively  felt  he  could 
have  disclosed,  and  which  materially  heightened  the  curi- 
osity and  anxiety  she  felt  concerning  this  unlooked-for 
event. 

A  few  days  after  she  received  the  nows,  Colonel  Aren- 
dell  entered  the  house,  in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  and 
passing  Aldeane  upon  the  stairs,  without,  in  his  distrac- 
tion, perceiving  her,  he  opened  the  door  of  his  wife's  room, 
and  said,  in  a  sort  of  horrified  whisper : — 


<; 
r 
J 
( 

I' 
f< 


P 
k 

or 

ill 
si 
m 
A\ 
m 
w 

Sll 

isl 

br 
^^'( 
fri 
sp: 

coi 
an 
Ar 

aw 


.1  r.  i>  i:a  .v/t. 


bitterly  f.;Ta'inst  him. 
rtaiit  oaso,  tunioil  tin- 
Mr.  Iliilcomhc  lia^l 
liis  su('ccssl"\il  rival. 
,11,1  ivi'ii  Mr.  Ashtoii 
ate  suci'c'hs.  It  wan 
loston  and  sock  pros- 
i,  liellc  heard  this  de- 
t  consent  to  give  up 
iwlier  elsewhere :  Imt 
n  a  most  iiiiexiieeted 

on  one  day,  that  the 
ns  had  been  arrested, 
ew  louder  and  louder, 
?nee  spread  over  tlu! 

'h  upon  the  streets  at 
ut  the  curious  juihllc, 
ipon  his  atlairs,  would 
\-i\  that  the  Ejentleman, 
^ny  with  Mr.  Ashtou 
ious  prosecutor  of  the 

tely  apprised  of  what 
it  as  was  known  to  the 
nown  to  himself,  kept 
ituitively  felt  he  could 
y  heightened  the  curi- 
ling  this  unlooked-for 

3  now8,  Colonel  Arcn- 
great  excitement,  and 
dthout,  in  his  distrac- 
loorof  his  wife's  room, 
(per : — 


il7 


"Ma!  Ida,  William  is  eoining  \unnv\     ^\\  l.n.fher  is 
coiiiiiig !" 

There  was  an  ex.'l.iniatioii  of  the  greatest  surprise  from 
Mrs.  Areiidfll,  tti.ii   Aid. am'    h.ard   no  more,  hut  that 
little  convinced  lier  that  a  mystery  existed  in  the  family 
<if  which  she  had  hitherto  been  perfectly  ignorant.     She 
reinemhered  that  she  had  oi-easionally  heard  of  a  William 
Arciidell,   especially    at    the    time  of"   the    discovery    of 
<Jeorge  Ifaymoii.rs  parentage;  hut  she  had  always  sup- 
posed  him  dead.      She   reinemhered  well  that   she   had 
fouii.l  the  i)icture  of  u  young  man  under  a  lile  (.Told 
I>apers  in  the  library,  whose  frank  handsome  countenance 
had  deeply  interested   her,  and  that  it  was  lying  oi,  ij,,. 
parlor  table  when  George  IJaymond  arrived,  aii(i  that  he 
looked  nt  it,  sometimes  sorrowfully,  but  often  with  the 
glare  of  wild  jiassion  that  so  frequently  overspreail  his 
face.     After  his  death  the  picture  had  disappeared,  and 
she  had  aceounte<l  for  it,  by  supposing  that  it  raised  tr>o 
many  sad  memories  of   his   dead    son.     Ibit   that    this 
William  Arendell  still  existed,  she  had  never  for  a  mo- 
ment  imagined,  and  to  know  the  cause  of  his  long  exile 
was  now  the  greatest  desire  of  her  mind. 

Xeither  the  colonel  or  ."Sirs.  Arendell  mentioned  the 
subject  when  they  saw  her,  an.l  this  increased  her  aston- 
ishment, and  wish  to  j.enetrate  the  mystery. 

"Surely,"  thought  she,  "if  the  return  of  this  long-lost 
brother  was  the  occasion  of  joy  to  Colonel  ArendeU,  he 
Mould  immediately  communicate  the  good  news  to  his 
friends  and  acfpiaintanee.  I  have  not  liear.l  him  even 
speak  his  name.     It  is  indeed  most  strange." 

Several  days  had  passed.  Colonel  Arendell  had  be- 
come still  more  morose  and  gloomy,  and  his  wife  wore 
an  anxious  look.  Aldeane  had  received  no  letter  from 
Arthur,  at  which  she  was  greatly  surprised,  as  he  had 
given  her  no  particulars  of  the  arrest  of  Xevins,  and  slio 
awaited  them  with   the  utmost   impatience.     So  m-  \ 


318 


AIDEA}JE. 


ciijjroHsoil  wtTo  tb«'  ArcmlillH  in  \\w\r  own  ncrrt't,  that 
tlifV  <li<l  not  notice  tliat  any  tliinir  wi'iK'l><''l  ""  Al(ltaiu''n 
iniil'l.  Slic  liail  inlcn«lf<l  to  tell  thcni  of  Ncvin^'H  arrc-nt, 
l)iit  til.'  Mlianu'  attaclu'.l  to  it,  an<l  lirr  ii,'n<.rano«'  of  nil 
Iiarticularn,  had  witiilultl  Imt  from  doinjx  «>• 

'I'lif  Angust  Hnn  liad  dimlH'.l  the  zfnitli,  and  tlio  family 
had  ntiriMl  to  diftVmit  parts  of  the  h>nsc  to  seek  quiet 
and  **i>ade.  At  tho  oiid  of  the  front  i)ia/.za  was  a  little 
arbor  formed  of  many  a  flowerintr  Hhr\il»  that  en'i-t  over 
the  lattice ;  a  little  'nistie  seat  had  heen  plaeed  there, 
and  many  hours  had  Leonore  and  Aldenne  spent  thiTu 
tojrether.  Thither,  with  a  favorite  book  for  company, 
Aldeane  now  retired,  antl  '  .  the  most  remote  corner, 
where  she  i-ouhl  see  no  one  without,  nor  be  seen  by  tluin, 
she  sat  down,  l-'rom  the  jx-rusal  of  a  beautiful  potin, 
she  fell  into  a  tender  train  of  thought.  Her  brother, 
Helle,  Leonore,  and  Frederic  Morgan,  one  by  one  i)asRed 
thro\igh  the  shadowy  vista  of  her  mind.  She  had  fallen 
into  a  day-dream  of  unusual  richness  and  beauty,  when 
she  was  startled  by  the  tones  ol  well-known  voices.  One 
she  instantly  recognized  as  Colonel  Arench'U's,  the  other, 
though  perfectly  familiar  to  her,  she  could  give  to  none 
of  her  present  ac(iuaintanees.  It  seemed  to  lead  her  a 
long  way  back  into  the  past,  and  to  scenes  altogether 
different  from  the  South.  Where  could  she  have  heard 
it  ?  She  arose  o  leave  the  little  alcove,  but  remembered 
that  the  only  entrance  was  near  the  end  of  the  piazza, 
and  that  she  would  be  sureljrseen  by  the  gentlemen;  she 
looked  down  r;,t  he  disordered  dress,  and  while  she  stood 
in  doubt,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  she  heard  the  stranger 

say  : — 

"  Yes,  colonel,  your  brother  has  arrived,  and  the  man 
who  for  years  has  stained  his  name  with  infamy  is 
secured  within  the  jail  at  Loring,  to  await  his  trial  at 
the  coining  sessions." 

"  Yo\j  of  course  arc  aw'are."  said  the  colonel,  "  that  I 


t 

t( 

b 
C 

ci 
C 

ill 
HI 
ri 
er 
w 

th 

ha 
ev 


T 


A  LT)  EA  A'/;. 


iill) 


tioir  own  secret,  that 

Ai'ij^hfil  on  AldfiUic's 
m  of  N'fviiis'w  arrest, 

licr  iiiiiorance  of  all 
loint?  «<>. 

zenith,  and  the  family 
e  lims*'  to  seek  qiiiel 
ut  |)iazza  was  a  little 
*lir\ih  that  erejit  over 
(I  been  plaeeil  there, 

Alrteant"  npent  thero 
1  book  for  eom]>any, 

moHt  rt-niote  corner, 
,  nor  be  seen  by  them, 

of  a  beautiful  po«in, 
ought.  Iler  brother, 
m,  one  V»y  on(^  ])assefl 
ninrl.  She  had  fallen 
i'ss  and  beauty,  when 
ll-known  voices.     One 

Arendell's,  the  other, 
le  could  give  to  none 
Hcemed  to  lead  her  a 

to  weenes  altogethi'r 

could  fhe  have  heard 
cove,  but  remembered 
he  end  of  the  piazza, 
)y  the  gentlemen ;  she 
IS,  and  while  she  stood 
she  heard  the  stranger 

arrived,  and  the  man 
name  M'ith  infamy  is 
,  to  await  his  trial  at 

i  the  colonel,  "  that  I 


shall  b,.  d.hght.d  if  i|„.  innocence  of  my  broth.r  can  1... 
proved.  Although  through  his  lawyer  I  was  made  aware 
of  Ins  return  to  this  ,o„ntry.  I  wiis  p.-rfeetly  nnprepnred 
for  such  an  event  as  this.  Ib.l  I  beg  of  vou,  sir,  to  -rive 
me  the  n.ime  of  the  man  whom  you  assert  to  be  the  nal 
eriimnai." 

"  Davis,"  replied  the  stranger,  whose  voice  each  mo- 
ment perplex.d  Ald.-ane  still  more,  as  afraid  to  move  she 
remained  an  unwilling  listen.T  to  the  conversation  of  the 
two  gentlemen,  who  were  hidden  from  her  view  by  the 
thick  shiiililury. 

"  Davis  !"  n.iterated  Colonel  Aren.h.ll.  "  What  I  not 
Jonas  Davis,  our  old  friend  ?     It  is  impossible  1" 

"  It  is  perf.-ctly  true,"  returned  the  g.-ntleman,  quietly. 
Jon.is  Novins  Davis,  for  years  known  as  Jonas  Xevins 
IS  now  HI  Loring  jail,  occupying  the  very  cell  in  which 
your  brother  was  coiiHned  njore  than  twenty  years  ago." 
Overcome  with  astonishment,  Aldeane  thrust  her  hand 
through  the  clusfring   vines,  an.l    by   a  violent    ettbrt 
teanng  them  aside  saw  standing  befbre  her,  Mr.  Ashton. 
Had  a  thunderbolt  fallen  at  her  feet  she  could  not  have 
been  m..re  surprised.     "  How  came  he  there,  to  herald  to 
Colonel  Arendell  the  return  of  his  wandering  brother?" 
At  the  sound  vf  her  bw,  involuntary  scream,  and  the 
crashing  of  the  vines,  they  had    started   to   their  feet. 
Colonel  Arendell  regarded  her  with  a  look  of  angry  de- 
fiance, and  Mr.  Ashton  hastened  to  her  side,  leading  her 
like  one  in  a  dreatn  from  the  arbor,  making  eager  inqui- 
ries concerning  her  health,  and  assuring  her  that  their 
enemy  had  fallen,  never  again  to  rise,  and  that  justice 
woidd  be  done  to  all  at  last. 

Colonel  Aretidell  excitedly  demanded  how  she  came 
there. 

In  a  trembling  voice  she  explained ;  but  he  seemed  but 
half  satisfied,  and  turned  away,  muttering,  "  Women  are 
everywhere,  hearing  every  thing !" 


320 


ALDEANE. 


IIi'i-  curiosity  ami  iuixioty  wore  Mnotlior'>(l  by  lier  rc- 
sontmi'iit  of  this  coudnct,  m  she  turned  to' depart.  Mr. 
Ashton  wished  to  detain  her,  but  she  swept  proudly  by 
him. 

lie  demanded  hastily,  "  When  can  I  see  you,  to  give 
you  all  particulars  ?" 

"At  almost  any  time,"  she  answered.  "Colonel  Areii- 
dell  must  suppose  that  I  am  deeply  interested  in  that 
which  concerns  all  who  arc  dear  to  nie." 

lie  turned  ashy  pale,  and  leaning  against  a  pillar  of 
the  piazza,  Avaved  his  hand  for  her  to  go. 

Noticing  this  deep  emotion,  Aldeane  concluded  that 
the  subject  was  in  reality  very  painful  to  him,  and  imme- 
diately left  them. 

The  whole  of  that  day  and  night  was  jjassed  by  her  in 
a  state  of  most  intoler.able  suspense.  She  saw  Colonel 
Arendell  but  once,  and  then  he  preserved  the  most  im- 
penetrable silence  on  the  subject  nearest  the  thoughts  of 
both,  and  Aldeane  was  unwilling  to  risk  his  displeasure 
by  mentioning  it. 

The  next  morning  she  awaited  impatiently  a  visit  from 
ISIr.  Ashton.  She  could  not  co.  ^eive  how  he  had  become 
acquainted  with  AVilliam  Arendell,  or  why  he  should  be 
so  much  interested  in  his  case  as  to  accompany  him  South. 
A  hundred  wild  conjectures  floated  through  her  mind, 
but  none  were  satisfactory.  She  remained  in  an  inde- 
scribable state  of  mysterious  anxiety,  starting  every  time 
the  gates  creaked  on  their  hinges,  or  a  footstep  sounded 
upon  the  piazza.  Colonel  Arendell  left  the  house  early 
in  the  morning,  expecting  that  Mr.  Ashton  would  come, 
and  feeling  very  unwilling  to  meet  him.  The  hours,  to 
Aldeane,  passed  wearily.  The  exercises  of  the  school- 
room seemed  unusually  dvdl.  Eddie  and  Jessie  could 
not  comprehend  the  lassitude  of  their  teacher,  and  as  a 
matter  of  course  they  were  stupid  and  inattentive,  annoy- 
h\'X  and  worrying  her  exceedingly. 


St 

w 

tli 

so 
lu 

ti( 
he 
be 
be 

vo 

mc 

P^o 

abi 

loo 

wit 

at 

rol 

om 

esti 

\m\ 

He 

not 

acq 

but 

thn 

nati 

my 

had 


fimothor'Ml  by  her  rc- 
inied  to  dopart.  Mr. 
lie  8\vi'i)t  proudly  by 

an  I  see  you,  to  give 

■red.    "Colonel  Areii- 

jly  interested  in  that 

nie." 

g  against  a  pillar  of 

to  go. 

leane  concluded  that 

ful  to  liim,  and  inime- 

was  ))assed  by  her  in 
ise.  She  saw  Colonel 
eserved  the  most  ira- 
■arest  the  thoughts  of 
o  risk  his  displeasure 

ipatiently  a  visit  from 
►'e  how  he  had  become 
or  why  he  should  be 
[iccompany  him  South. 
2(\  through  her  mind, 
remained  in  an  inde- 
;y,  starting  every  time 
ir  a  footstep  sounded 
11  left  the  house  early 
,  Ashton  would  come, 
t  him.  The  hours,  to 
erciscs  of  the  school- 
Idie  and  Jessie  could 
heir  teacher,  and  as  a 
nd  inattentive,  anuoy- 


A  LI)  i:.{  X  K. 


A  feeling  of  joyful  relii'f  came  over  all  when  Zettie 
came  in  and  announced:  "A  gentleman  in  the  parlor  to 
see  Miss  AhU'ane." 

She  sprang  up  cpiickly,  and  was  soon  returnin<r  the 
warm  greeting  of  Mr.  Ashton, 

"  Why  did  you  come  South  ?  What  do  you  know  of 
this  Mr.  William  ArendellV"  were  Iier  first  (luestions. 

"  To  answer  you  fully,  Aldeane,  I  must  take  you  back 
some  twenty  years,"  he  answere.l.  "Come,  sit  down 
beside  me,  on  the  sota.  I  do  not  think  the  story  will  tire 
you." 

She  took  a  seat  and  waited  with  considerable  impa- 
tience for  him  to  begin.  He  walked  up  and  down  before 
her  several  times  in  deep  thought,  then  seating  himself 
beside  lier,  and  smoothing  nrravely  his  gray  and  flowin<r 
beard,  (commenced  : —  '^ 

"It  is  now  about  twenty  years  ago  that  I  made  a 
voyage  to  England.     I  liad  left  my  young  wife  and  child 
most  reluctantly,  to  go  there  on  very  important  business. 
P'or  some  days  I  made  no  acquaintances,  most  of  those 
aboard  being  of  an  inferior  class.    At  last  I  noticed  a  fine- 
looking  man,  of  about  my  own  age,  who  seemed  imbued 
with  the  deepest  melancholy.    He  would  remain  tor  hours 
at  the  side  of  the  ship,  with  his  eyes  fastened  u])on  the 
rolling  waves,  expressive  of  thoughts  as  wild  and  fath- 
omless as  they.     His  seemingly  desolate  condition  inter- 
ested and  touched  me  with  ))ity.     Moved  by  a  stroii<r 
impulse  which  I  could  not  resist,  I  one  day  spoke  to  him" 
He  replied  courteously,  but  coldly;  but  I  was  determined 
not  to  be  so  easily  put  off,  and  again  addressed  him.   The 
ac(piaintaiice  thus  commenced  progressed  very  slowlv  • 
but  the  voyage  proving  long  and  tempestuous,  we  weVo 
thrown  entirely  on  one  another  for  society,  and  beiiicr 
naturally  of  a  sociable  nature,  he  at  last  unbent  before 
my  frequent  advances,  and  ere  the  end  of  the  voyage  we 
had  become  friends.  " 

14» 


322 


ALDEANE. 


.  "  I  knew  that  a  mystery  \\\\x\%  over  Irs  life.  As 
yet  I  knew  not  the  place  of  his  residence,  whether  he 
wore  married  or  single,  or  even  his  name.  I  lonfjed  to 
)»«'netrate  tlie  Liloom  that  hung  over  him,  and  win  his  con- 
lidenee,  but  all  my  endeavors  seemed  in  vain.  Delicacy 
forbade  rude  intrusion  upon  his  secret,  and  the  sorrow 
which  marked  his  life  excited  daily  my  ))ity,  while  the 
manl'ness  of  his  character  aroused  my  admiration  an<l 
esteem. 

"  At  length,  amid  peneral  rejoicini;,  we  entered  the 
Mersey,  and  on  the  morrow  woidd  land.  A  bright  moon 
hung  over  Liverpool,  revealing  to  us  the  dark  streets  of 
the  city  which  we  were  about  to  enter.  My  unknown 
friend  and  I  slowly  and  sorrowfully  paced  the  deck  to- 
gi'ther.  Little  was  said  by  either.  I  felt  sincere  pain  at 
parting  with  this  man,  who  seemed  so  truly  miserable, 
and  whom  in  so  short  a  time  I  had  learned  so  deeply  to 
respect.  His  thoughts,  also,  seemed  to  be  of  a  sorrowful 
character,  for  I  saw  his  face  working  painffUy  in  the 
moonlight,  while  he  would  occasionally  sigh  d  seply,  as  if 
his  very  soul  was  in  strife  with  some  mighty  weight  of 
shame  and  grief 

"  He  stopped  at  last,  placing  his  elbows  on  the  side  of 
the  ship,  and  covering  his  face  with  his  hands.  I  fancy 
I  can  see  him  now.  ^flie  hands  were  delicate  and  white, 
and  trembled  nervously  as  they  closed  over  his  dark  face, 
shaded  darkly  by  the  black  hair  that  fell  over  them.  I 
regarded  him  for  a  moment  in  sorrowful  astonishment, 
then  laid  my  hand  upon  his  arm  in  silent  sympathy. 

"  The  touch  aroused  him ;  turning,  he  placed  his  arm 
again  within  mine,  and  we  recommenced  our  silent  walk. 
I  longed  to  know  his  troubles,  and  to  comfort  him,  yet 
shrank  from  asking  his  confidence.  He  seemed  struggling 
violently  with  his  pride,  for  ever  and  anon  he  would  open 
his  lips  as  if  to  speak,  then  close  thera  again  with  a  look 
of  agony. 


r 
c 
I; 
t 

V 

\\ 
1> 


cl 
fii 
111 
tl 

bi 
to 
ea 

st) 
fai 
th 
oil 
to 
1,1 
Ai 
wl 


A  LD  KAXE. 


over  h'9  life.  As 
csidenco,  whether  ho 
1  iiiiiue.  I  lonfjed  to 
him,  iitul  win  his  coii- 
(1  in  viiin.  Delicacy 
cret,  and  the  sorrow 
V  my  i)ity,  while  the 

my  admiration  and 

inu,  we  entered  the 
imd.  A  hright  moon 
s  the  dark  streets  ot" 
enter.  My  unknown 
^  p.ieed  the  deck  to- 

I  I'elt  sincere  pain  at 
[  80  truly  miserable, 

learned  so  deeply  to 
[  to  be  of  a  sorrowful 
ing  painffUy  in  the 
illy  sigh  d  Jeply,  as  if 
le  mighty  weight  of 

'Ibows  on  the  side  of 
1  his  hands.  I  fancy 
e  delicate  and  white, 
?d  over  his  dark  face, 
It  fell  over  them.  I 
rowful  astonishment, 
silent  sympathy, 
g,  he  placed  his  ami 
need  our  silent  walk, 
to  comfort  him,  yet 
He  seemed  struggling 
I  anon  he  would  open 
>m  again  with  a  look 


:{2;5 


My  sympathy  at  length  overcame  every  otlior  consi.l- 
eration.  I  could  not  longer  remain  silent,  and  .see  this 
man,  whom  I  had  leanu-d  to  esteem,  suflVr  so  deeply  in 
my  preseiH'<>,  without  seeking  to  comfort  him. 

'"My  friend,'  I  said,  for  I  knew  not  his  name,  '  you 
are  m  troubU-some  weiglity  sorrow  is  oi)pressing  your 
heart.     Can  I  not  lielp  or  comfort  you  V' 

"I  had  expected  a  sorrowful  an'swer;  I  had  prepared 
niyself  for  a  sad  scene,  but  not  for  that  which  really  oc- 
<-..rre.l.  He  droi)pcd  my  arm,  an<l  leaning  against  tlie 
bulwarks,  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  u.id  burst  into 
tears.  I  was  astounded  to  see  the  strong  man  befcu-e  me 
weepmg  like  a  very  child,  but  in  the  deep  anguish  of 
a  man's  wounded  heart,  I  stoo<l  irresolute,  not  knowin<r 
wliat  to  say  or  do,  and  while  I  pondered,  the  storm  of 
passion  passed  away,  and  he  looked  up,  saying  :— 

" '  I  know  you  despise  me  after  this  exhibition  of  weak- 
ness ;  but,  indeed,  mine  is  a  bitter  lot !' 

"  '  I  know  tliat ."  I  replied,  standing  beside  him,  and 
clasping  his  hand,  '  and  I  conjure  you,  if  you  have  any 
faith  in  my  honor,  or  reliance  upon  my  friendshij),  to  let 
me  know  your  griefs,  that,  if  possible,  I  may  alleviate 
them.' 

Tiiat  you  can  nof  do  !'  lie  rejdied,  sighing  deeply, 
but  you  shall  know  my  story,  though  I  fear  U)  tell  'it 
to  you,  lest  I  thereby  lose  the  only  friend  I  have  on 
earth.' 

"I  earnestly  assured  him,  that  whatever  he  should 
state,  I  should  consider  more  his  misfortune  tJian  his 
fault,  and  after  a  few  moments'  reflection,  he  commenced 
the  story  of  his  life.  Afterward,  he  wrote  the  sad  tale 
out  in  nearly  the  same  words,  as  those  in  which  he  had 
told  it  to  me,  and  tiiis  statement,  Aldeane,  I  am  about  to 
l)lace  in  your  hands,  togetlicr  with  the  proofs  of  William 
Arendell's  innocence,  and  Jonas  Xevins  Davis's  guilt, 
which  it  has  been  the  work  of  years  to  collect.     Read' 


}21 


A  r.Di:A  A'/;. 


them  to-iii>,'ht,  my  <l<'ar,  :uul  I  will  advise  with  you  as  to 
the  part  yoii  may  be  called  upon  to  take  in  this  affair." 

Mr.  Ashton  said  nineh  more,  hut  what  it  was,  Aldeane, 
in  her  eonfiised  state,  eould  not  tell,  an<l  it  was  long  alter 
he  had  bidden  her  farewell,  that  she  found  courage  to 
look  upon  the  documents  he  had  left  in  her  hand. 


sh 
pe 

W( 

he 
thi 

801 


sh( 
cai 
to 
tw 


nat 
a  c 
ycii 
me: 
abl 
an  < 
and 
qui) 
bro 
Goc 

c 

bcai 
mos 


clvise  with  you  as  to 
take  in  this  affiiir," 
vhat  it  was,  Aldcatio, 
and  it  was  long  alU'r 
ho  found  courage  to 
t  in  liiT  hand. 


CHAPTER    XXXIII. 

WILLIAM    ARENDELL's    .\AKUATIVE. 

AinEAXE  Guthrie  did  not  wait  for  night  to  come  ere 
she  hurried  to  her  room,  and  eagerly  bent  herself  to'  the 
perusal  of  the  record  which  ha.l  l/een  <-<>nfided  to  her 
wondenng  by  what  strange  fatality  it  had  been  made 
her  lot  to  be  made  the  repository  of  secrets,  which,  like 
those  of  Raymond,  this  AVilliam  Arendell's  unfortunate 
son,  apparently  affected  her  so  little. 

But  her  curiosity  hastily  silenced  these  retlections,  and 
she  opened  the  manuscript,  which  was  marked  for  her 
earhest  perusal,  and  read  the  tale  which  ha.l  been  told 
to  3Ir.  Ashton  upon  the  deck  of  the  vessel  more  than 
twenty  years  belbrc. 

"My  name,"  it  began,  "is  William  Arendell.  I  am  a 
native  of  Xorth  Carolina.  My  mother  died  when  I  was 
a  child  of  live  years  old,  and  my  father  about  lifteen 
years  later.  I  inherited  the  paternal  estate  called  Grass- 
mere,  and  my  younger  brother,  John,  one  not  less  valu- 
able, some  ten  miles  distant.  Thus  we  were  placed  with 
an  equal  number  of  slaves,  and  an  equal  amount  of  land 
and  money.  I  need  say  no  more,  except  that  John  was 
quiet  and  frugal,  and  I  his  opposite— an  unworthy  elder 
brother— I  know ;  yet  I  was  not  base  at  heart,  but  O 
God  !  so  weak,  weak,  weak.  '     ' 

(j'When  I  became  master  at  Grassmere,  there  was  a 
b&autiful  slave  girl  there-a  quadroon— and  one  of  the 
most  lovely  creatures  of  her  race.     Iler  beauty  inspired 


32t5  ALDEANE. 

me  with a  pussion  of  whioh  I  now  blush  to  spviik. 

It  W!i8  not  lontj  1)cf"on>  I  (liscovcrod  that  sue  lovt'il  mo 
witli  licr  whoK'hoait  and  soul.  What  nt'i-d  have  I  to  say 
inoivy  Slu'  was  a  slave,  I  the  niastt'r  whom  she  wor- 
shiped. A  child  was  born  to  us,  the  iniaoje  of  myself, 
and  my  heart  went  out  to  him  with  the  purest,  tenderest 
love.  Sweet  child  ;  dear  little  Junius  !"  he  paused,  as  if 
overcome  by  emotion,  but  presently  continued: — ) 

"  Meanwhile,  my  brother  had  married.  His  wife  had 
been  much  admired  for  her  beauty,  and  among  others  I 
had  bowed  at  her  shrine,  but  soon  discovering  her  fiend- 
ish disposition  ami  horrible  temjjer  had  left  her  in  dis- 
gust. Unfortunately,  I,  who  iletested  her,  had  inspired 
her  with  love,  and  her  fury  was  fully  aroused  when  sIh' 
found  it  hopeless.  For  some  time  she  employed  her  most 
seductive  arts  to  win  me  back ;  but  all  in  vain.  Mean- 
while, John  had  become  deeply  enamored  of  her.  1 
Warned  and  remonstrated  with  him,  but  only  excited  his 
anger  and  jealousy.  For  some  time  she  scorned  his  suit, 
but  he  c  inued  it  with  the  most  ardent  pertinacity,  and 
at  length,  to  my  great  sorrow  and  surprise,  she  accepted 
liim,  and  very  shoi  lly  afterward  became  his  wife. 

"After  my  father's  death,  I  led,  what  is  usually  teiiacd 
the  life  of  a  fast  young  man.  I  had  money,  and  I  scat- 
tered it  freely,  and  was  greatly  surprised,  when  I  found 
that  it  was  not  only  exhaustible,  but  that  I  was  in  reality 
deeply  in  debt.  I  applied  to  my  brother  for  relief,  and 
he  granted  it,  instructing  his  overseer,  Richard  Blake,  to 
supply  me  with  the  funds  I  Required.  My  sister-in-law  at 
the  same  time  pretended  the  greatest  solicitude  in  my 
behalf. 

"  About  this  time,  I  became  acquainted  with  a  young 
lady — a  resident  of  another  county,  named  Alice  Deane. 
I " 


Aldeane  paused,  and  clasped  her  hands  in  amazement, 
or  perhaps  more  correctly  a  Bpecies  of  affright,  ejaculated, 


h 

b, 

fii 

V( 

I 

cl 
si 
m 
h< 
ho 
to 
w< 
m( 

kn 
sh( 

W: 

ani 

wo 

all, 

of 

mo 

om 

nej 

pa) 
act 

dis] 

li 

ing 
whi 
seal 
The 
the 


now  blusli  to  siK'Jik. 
d  tliat  she  lovt'd  jim 
lilt  iH'i'tl  liiivo  1  to  s!iy 
lastcr  whom  hIic  wor- 
tlic  imajTc  of  iiiys«'lf, 

I  the  purest,  toiidoiest 
ius !"  he  paused,  as  if 
y  contimiod : —  / 
rried.  His  wife  had 
,  aiul  among  others  I 
liseovering  lier  fieiid- 
r  had  left  lior  in  dis- 
sted  lier,  had  inspired 

II  y  aroused  when  she 
he  employed  her  most 
it  all  in  vain.  Mean- 
enamored  of  her.     1 

I,  but  only  excited  his 
e  she  scorned  his  suit, 
rdent  pertinacity,  and 
surprise,  she  accepted 
came  his  wife. 
I'hat  is  usually  teiiiicd 
d  money,  and  I  scat- 
■prised,  when  I  found 
it  that  I  was  in  reality 
)rother  for  relief,  and 
oer,  Richard  Blake,  to 
1.  My  sister-in-law  at 
,test  solicitude  in  my 

tainted  with  a  young 
•,  named  Alice  Deane. 

•  hands  in  amazement, 
of  affright,  ejaculated, 


ALDEANE. 


327 


"My  aunt,  Alice  Deane;'  and  then  breatlilessly  resumed 
her  reading. 

C  "I  ;;'>on    loved    hor   devotedly.     ^\y  passion  f.,r   the 
beautihil  quadroon  died  before  the  pure  loveliness  of  this 
fair   creature.^,  She  was  loved  by  another,  who   swore 
vengeance  upon  whomsoever  should  take  lier  from  him 
1  laughed    at  his  threats,   yet  for  the  sake  of  Samira's 
child   whom  I  still  loved  devotedly,  I  for  some  time   re- 
sisted  the  lascinatioMs  of  her  beauty,  but  at  last  disclose.! 
my  feelmgs,  and  with  a  heart  throbbing  with  e.-stasv 
heard  that  they  were  reciprocated.     Sorrowfully,  I  told' 
her  that  wild  and  dissipated  as  I  was,  I  was  m^st  unfit 
to  he  the  comj)anion   of  so  i>ure  a  creature.     Hut  she 
would  not  believe  her  idol  clay,  and  with  truest  faith  gave 
me  her  heart. 

"  Ere  long  we  were  married,  and  shortly  afterward  she 
knew  all,  but  instead  of  loathing  me  and  hatin<r  my  child 
she  conceived  for  him  a  strong  affection,  and  for  a  time  I 
Wi. ,  perfectly  happy  in  beholding  the  felicity  of  the  wife 
and  child  I  adored. 

"  But,  alas  !  enemies  were  plotting  my  destruction  '  The 
words  of  Davis  had  not  been  lightly  spoken.  I  had  paid 
all,  except  one  small  installment,  of  what  I  had  borrowed 
ot  my  brother,  for  by  the  most  rigid  economy,  and  a 
most  fortunate  speculation  in  tobacco,  I  had  gained  in 
one  year  nearly  as  much  as  I  had  expended  in  twelve  I 
neglected  to  obtain  receipts  from  the  overseer  of  those 
payments,  but,  of  course,  John  knows  of  them,  and  will 
act  justly  in  connection  with  the  proper  officials  in  the 
disposition  of  my  estate. 

"One  day,  about  two  years  after  my  marriage,  on  return- 
ing from  Linden,  a  village  two  miles  distant,to  my  house 
what  was  my  surprise  to  see  several  officers  of  'the  law 
scattered  i^    different  parts  of  the  liouse  an'd  grounds 
Ihere  had  been  a  robbery  committed  the  night  before  on 
the  Loring  bank-a  window  having  been  entered,  and  the 


;328 


A  IDE  AS'  K. 


Kiiib  forced  open ;  and  my  first  impression  was  that  they 
•were  restinj^  at  my  house  on  tiieir  way  to  appreheinl  the 
snsi)ecte(l  party.  I  sahited  them  carelessly,  an<l  one  ap- 
proaclied,  i>laein;4  liis  hand  upon  my  shouliler,  arrestinj^ 
uie  tor  llie  robbery  of  tlie  Itank. 

"  Had  a  meteor  descended  from  lieaven  and  burst  before 
me  I  could  not  have  been  more  liorritied  and  astounded. 
!My  poor  wife  threw  her  arms  around  me,  shriekini;  wildly 
with  terror.  While  endeavorinj^  to  soothe  and  assure 
lier,  I  myself  became  calm.  Quick  as  a  li<,'htnin<j;  tlash 
the  truth  burst  upon  nu" !  Davis  was  cashier  of  the 
bank,  and  I  doubted  not,  had  broutiht  this  accusation 
against  nu',  in  order  to  fulfill  his  diabolical  threats  of 
ruinintj  me.  Until  now  1  liad  quite  forgotten  them,  for 
he  had  always  greeted  me  cordially  when  we  met,  and  in 
that  neighborhood  had  never  given  utterance  to  a  single 
■word  against  me.  IJut  I  did  not  for  a  moment  suppose 
but  that  I  should  be  able  to  prove  his  villainy,  and  the 
falseness  of  the  charge. 

"  I  demanded  of  the  oHicer  the  reason  of  my  arrest. 
lie  could  give  none,  except  that  it  was  by  the  order  of 
the  sheritt"  of  the  county.  He  treated  me  very  respect- 
fully, but  said  that  he  luid  orders  to  search  the  house.  I 
readily  agreed  to  this,  and  accompanied  him  though  every 
room."  The  last  we  visited  was  the  library.  1'his  they 
thoroughly  searched.  There  was  a  small  safe  in  one 
corner,  which  contained  many  valuable  papers,  many  of 
■which  I  was  most  anxious  should  not  be  seen  by  those 
men,  for  they  related  to  'my  bachelor  days,  many  of 
which  were  spent  in  gayety  and  dissipation  of  which  I 
was  then  heartily  ashamed. 

'  "  Involuntarily  I  placed  myself  before  it  to  screen  it 
from  observation.  The  movement  attracted  the  notice 
of  the  officers,  and  one  demanded  the  key.  I  looked  for 
it  in  the  accustomed  place,  it  was  not  there.  My  God  ! 
who  had  touched  that  key ;  who  had  tampered  with  the 


SI 


o 
r( 
c! 
oi 

SI 

>.v 
m 

sv 
sp 

<)« 

nr 
wi 

ov 

C01 


:d,i 
he.' 
spr 


anc 

not 

mo 

rag 
« 

wil( 


iression  was  that  thoy 
way  to  aj)|>ri'hoii(l  the 
iui'li'ssly,  :m<l  ono  ap- 
ay  shouUler,  arresting 

'avon  and  burHt  hcforo 
litii'd  and  astonndod. 
il  nic,  shrii'kini;  wildly 
to  sootlio  and  assure 
;k  as  a  li<ihtninjj  tlasli 
s  was  cashuT  of  tlu' 
ouiilit  this  accusation 
diabolical  threats  of 
tc  forgotten  ihem,  for 
^'  when  we  met,  and  in 
1  utterance  to  a  single 
for  a  moment  suppose 
!  his  villainy,  and  the 

reason  of  my  arrest. 
it  was  by  the  order  of 
■ated  me  very  respect- 
o  search  the  house.  I 
lied  him  though  every 
e  library.     I'liis  they 

a  small  safe  in  one 
lablc  papers,  many  of 

not  be  seen  by  those 
:helor  days,  many  of 
dissipation  of  which  I 

before  it  to  Bcreen  it 
t  attracted  the  notice 
the  key.  I  looked  for 
not  there.  My  God  ! 
lad  tampered  with  the 


.(  A  l>  E A  .V  /■;. 


329 


lock  of  the  sail'/  I  felt  lost  when  1  asked  myself  that 
•piestion.  Some  one  pi.-ked  up  the  key  from  the  tloor, 
and  held  it  up  to  me. 

'"That  is  the  key,'  I  said,  'but  I  assure  you  that  the 
safe  contains  nothing  but  valuable  papers.' 

"'Tliat    may   be,'' he   replied.     'Nevertheless,   I  must 
act  acconling  to  onhrs,  and  search  every  i)lace.' 

"I  awaited  in  trembling  anxietv  for  the  conclusion 
of  the  sean-h.  Package  ath-r  package  of  papers  were 
removed  and  urtied,  and  the  searcji  was  nearly  con- 
cluded, when  an  exclamation  of  surprise  was  uttered  by 
<>"<■  "f  the  m.-n.  I  l)(>nt  forward,  and  to  my  liorror  and 
Mir].n.se,  saw  a  large  sum  in  g..M,  and  a  few  bank  notes 
lymg  in  one  corner.  With  a  malicious  smile  one  of  tlie 
men  gathered  them  up  and  examined  them.  'This  an- 
swers the  description  of  the  stolen  money  !'  he  said. 

"•Villain!  of  what  do  you  accuse  me?'  I  exclaimed, 
springing  upon  him.  I  was  seized  by  a  number  of  tht' 
otiicers,  and  struggled  wildly  with  them,  thus  injuring 
my  cause,  by  impressing  them  with  the  belief  that  I 
wished  to  escape. 

"  This  had  never  entered  my  mind.  Though  perfect Iv 
overwhelmed  at  the  sight  of  the  money,  the^  idea  that  I 
could  not  clear  myself  readily  of  the  accusation  brought 
against  me,  never  once  occurred  to  me. 

I' My  wife  had  fainted  in  my  arms,  and  I  stood  iti 
abject  misery  when  my  brother  rode  up  to  the  door,  and 
hearing  from  one  of  the  officers  that  I  was  arrested, 
sprang  into  the  library,  demanding  what  it  all  meant. 

"I  was  80  utterly  stunned  by  What  had  befallen  me, 
and  by  the  sight  of  my  unconscious  wife,  that  I  scarcely 
noticed  his  presence.  One  of  the  men,  pointing  to  the 
money,  hastily  gave  an  explanation,  and  foaming  witli 
rage  he  turned  toward  me : — 

"'So  this  is  the  end!'  he  exclaimed,  'after  years  of 
wildn"ss  and  dissipation,  you  end  your  career  by  robbery  I' 


330 


ALDEANE. 


"•John,'  I  returned,  in  liorror,  'you  no  not  believe 
me  guilty  y' 

"  '  And  wliy  not  V  he  asked  with  a  sneer.  *  Why  not  ? 
There,'  jiointing  to  tlie  money,  'ia  the  proof!  Goo(l 
heavens,  that  1  shouhl  live  to  sec  my  brother  aceuse.l  of 
Buoh  a  erimc,  and  to  hear  my  name  a  by-word  and  a 
disgraee !' 

"My  brain  seemed  on  fire  as  I  heard  those  words.  My 
own  brother  liad  condemned  mc  already  in  presence  of 
Jill  these  witnesses.  I  left  my  wife  to  the  earc  of  the 
servants,  and  rose  up.  'John,  come  away  from  here, 
where  I  can  speak  to  you  unreservedly.'  I  strode  out  to 
the  porch,  followed  by  the  ofttcers  and  my  brother. 

"•I  came  up  to  have  some  private  conversation  of  an 
important  nature  with  you,'  said  John.  'But  I  suppose 
that  will  not  be  allowed.' 

"One  of  the  otticers,  after  a  short  consultation  with 
the  others,  said  that  they  would  luive  no  objection  to  our 
having  a  short  private  conversation,  provided  that  it 
took  place  where  we  could  be  seen. 

" '  Place  your  men  in  the  garden  wherever  you 
please !'  I  said.  '  1  know  too  well  my  innocence  to 
attempt  to  escape,  still  it  is  your  duty  to  watch  me. 
You  see  yonder  arbor?'  pointing  to  one  that  stood  in  the 
garden,  overrun  witli  a  wild  trumpet-vine, '  let  us  go 
there.    You  can  easily  watch  us.' 

"  They  assented,  and  we  w.ilked  to  the  arbor  that  for 
years  had  been  my  favorite  seat.  My  brother  angrily 
demanded  an  explanation  of  what  had  passed.  I  could 
give  him  none  except  that  relative  to  Davis,  and  earn- 
estly protest  my  innocence. 

"lie  smiled  incredulously.  '  Why,  then,  did  you  write 
that  letter  to  Holland?'  he  asked. 

"  '  What  letter  ?'  I  exclaimed,  in  surprise,  for  I  had  not 
written  to  my  friend  Ralph  Holland,  who  had  gone  to 
England  on  a  bridal  tour,  for  several  weeks,  and  could 


w 

en 
Y 

ra 
yc 
mi 


th( 

US( 

I 

be.' 

ere 

hat 

arb 

lov 

an 

Bia 

M 

imp 

a  fe 

u 

plea 

my 

sutte 

ing 

cami 

tion 

was 


E. 


,  '  you  »^o  not  believe 


h  a  BMcor.    '  Why  not  ? 

'is  the   proof  1     Good 

my  brother  aci'usi-d  of 

lumc  a  by-word  and  a 

licard  those  words.  My 
already  in  presence  of 
iife  to  the  oarc  of  the 
come  away  from  here, 
vedly.'  I  strode  out  to 
i  and  my  brother, 
^ate  conversation  of  an 
John.     '  But  I  suppose 

(hort  consultation  with 

uive  no  objection  to  our 

ition,  provided  that  it 

n. 

garden    wherever    you 

well   my  innocence   to 

our  duty  to  watch  me. 

to  one  that  stood  in  the 

umpet-vinc, '  let  us  go 
> 

d  to  the  arbor  that  for 
1.  My  brother  angrily 
it  had  passed.  I  could 
tive  to  Davis,  and  earn- 

rhy,  then,  did  you  write 

m  surprise,  for  I  had  not 
Hand,  who  had  gone  to 
iveral  weoks,  and  could 


A  LDEA  XE. 


331 


n..f  ronccivowhat  possibh.  connection  my  corrospon.lence 
w  nil  him  could  have  with  my  arrest. 
1\'I''.''  '""'  '".'••■"^•''••••'l  '»  your  portfolio  this  mornin- •' 
This  momu.-!'  I  rcpe.-Ued,  in  astonishment.    'Th.Tc 
was  none  there  addressed  to  Holland  !' 

"Tt  is  false!'  ho  relurne.!,  fiercely.     'It  was  discuv- 
orod    his  n,on.u,g  at  th..  sa.ne  time  as  the  stolen  money 
1  ou  know  well  its  contents  !' 

"  'As  I  live,  I  knon-  nothing  of  it!'  I  replied,  much  en- 
rage<l  at  his  taunting  wonls  an<l  manner.  'What  did 
you  come  to  me  to-day  for?  Do  you  want  the  littlo 
money  I  owe  you  y 

l\lr'   ^''  ''"^^■^■'•^■fJ. '  ''»t  I  suj.posc  I  shi.!l  not  get  it  " 

ihat  you  will  not.     I  havo  not  such  a  large  sum  i„ 

the  house,  and  what  I  have  I  shall  leave  for  my  wife'. 

"Many  wonls  of  a  similar  nature  passed.   John  s.^emcl 
beside  Inmself  with  anger.     He  would  not  for  a  moment 
.edit  my  innocence,  and  we  parted  with  feelin-rs  of 
hatred  and  distrust  on  both  sides.     He  stro.le  from  the 
arbor,  and  galloped  away,  an.l  bi.lding  fairwc-ll  to  my 
lovely  wne,  I  went  to  Loring,  and  was  there  subjected  to 
an   examination,  in  which,  as   I   suspecte.l,  Davis  and 
Blake  were  the  chief  persons  who  appeared  against  me. 
A  lew  friends  became  security  for  my  appearance,  and  I 
impatiently  awa.;ed  my  trial,  which  was  to  take  place  in 
a  lew  weeks.  ' 

"  Oh  I  my  friend,  how  drearily  that  time  passed  !  The 
pleasure  that,  even  in  my  distress,  I  should  have  enjoyed  in 
my  wife  s  society,  was  marred  by  the  traces  of  can-  and 
surtenng  that  rested  upon  her  lovely  face,  now  fast  -n-r.w- 
mg  pale  and  attenuated.  My  brother  John  and  hirwiCe 
came  once  to  see  us.  I  thought  that  a  gleam  of  exulta- 
tion lighted  up  her  dark  eyes  as  she  looked  upon  my  mis- 
ery, but  in  a  moment  it  was  o.,„e,  and  when  she  spoke  it 
was  ui  the  sweetest  accents,  .assuring  nu;  that,  thou-h 


332 


.1  /./'AM  .V/T. 


apju-nriinf.'s  wi>n«  atruiiift  m(',Hlu'  iH-lk-vi-.l  tl.at  ii  lioiril.l.- 
pint  hu<\  lui  II  lai.l  ior  my  <U'Htrm'tion,an(l  tliat  I  was  ikt- 
Itrtlv  iimocciit. 

".loliii  walk.il  impationtly  up  ""''  '^'^^"  (InriiiK  the 
intfi-viow.  Wf  lia.l  luitiicr  of  us  ivcovcrcil  fioin  tlic 
iinjrcr  in  Mliich  wf  lia.l  parted,  ami  l>o  spoke  but  oiu'o,  ami 
till  II  ti)  mutter: — 

"'l)nvi»  is  a  man  to  be  trust««l.  IMakc's  testimony, 
also,  is  to  be  believed  in  every  ]>artieular  1' 

"I  rej.lied,  auiirily,  that  money  would  do  anytbinji; 
tbat  as  for  Davis,  lie"  would  swear  his  soul  away  to  frial- 
ify  bis  revenu'e,  f(.r  tbat  1  was  eontident  lie  bated  m<'. 
'  Vou  well  know  tbat  he  loved  my  wife,  and  swore  tn 
ruin  mo  when  I  married  her!'  1  eoncbided,  earnestly. 

"  '  Love  is  a  d'cadful  tliinc; !'  said  -Mrs.  Arendell,  softly. 
'  Love  is  the  di'mon  that  steals  i>ur  souls.' 

"'Has  it  stolen  youtHV'  I  asked,  abruptly,  raisin-,'  my 
eves  to  hers. 
'  "  She  turned  slipbtly  pale.     '  Wliy,  what  a  (piestion, 
William!     Of  eoiirse  it  hasn't!'     She  arose  to  go,  ami 
said,  as  she  bade  me  farewell : — 

"'I  shall  eall  on  Aliee  oOen  !  I  wish  you  would  lei 
her  j;o  liome  with  me  now.  I  suppose  sbe  would  be  ver.\ 
unwillin-i  to  b-ave  you;  but  I  really  think  it  would  be 
better  for  lier.  This  eonstant  excitement  is  eiiouudi  t" 
kill  her;  sbe  needs  every  attention  at  this  time.' 

"  For  a  moment  I  was  deceived  by  the  suavity  of  lier 
manner.  1  felt  eboked  with  emotion  at  this  mention  of 
my  wife,  with  whom  1  hrtd  rejoieed  over  tlie  prospect  of 
the  j.ossession  of  a  tie  which  should  bind  us  even  more 
closely  totretber.  I  now  shuddered  that  it  might  be  tlie 
ebild  of  a'oondemned  felon,  who  would  be  the  object  of 
pity  instead  of  jn-ble,  and  who  would  grow  up  in  detesta- 
tioii  of  tlie  name  which  it  should  revere  and  love.  These 
thoughts  passed  rapidly  through  my  mind.  AVhen  I 
lookt>ll  up  at  mv  brother's  wife,  a  slight  sneer  curled  her 


E. 

liilk'Vi'il  tlml  II  liorrildf 
tioii,  and  tlial  I  was  |Kr- 

and  flown  diirinii  the 
us  ri'cdvcrcd  iVoni  tlic 
I  lie  spoke  but  onco,  and 

id.     IMako'H  testimony, 

irticular  1' 

y  would  do  any  thin;,'; 

r  his  s(nd  away  to  frral- 

contidont   In-  liati'd  ine. 

my  wife,  and  swore  t^ 

oncliidfd,  earnestly. 

lid  .Mrs.  Arendell,  softly. 

ur  s(nds.' 

ed,  abruptly,  raisinj^  my 

Why,  what  a  question, 
She  iirose  to  go,  and 

!     I  wish  you  would  lei 
ppose  she  would  be  ver\ 
really  think  it  would  be 
'xcitement  is  enough  tn 
on  at  this  time.' 
^d  by  the  suavity  of  lier 
lotion  at  this  mention  of 
;ed  over  tlie  prospeet  of 
louM  bind  us  oven  more 
red  that  it  might  be  the 
I  would  be  the  objeet  of 
•ould  grow  up  in  detesta- 
l  revere  and  love.    These 
gh  my  mind.      Wlien   I 
a  slight  sneer  curled  her 


A  LI>  i:  A  X  /.\ 


833 


beautiful  lips,  and  her  eyes  wcro  looking  coldly  into  mine, 
witli  an  expression  that  curdlid  my  very  blo.id. 

"'I  thought  you  were  alunit  to  speak,  iti'inemlier  I 
am  yowr  friend!  Shall  I  lak.-  .Mice  h.mie  with  me  or 
notV 

"I  sluuldered  at  the  lliuiight  of  n»y  pure  and  gentio 
wife  being  in  the  )>ower  of  that  wi>man,  and  said  ipiick- 

"  'No.  No,  I  tliaidv  you !  Siie  is  Letter  where  she  is. 
She  would  pine  the  iiiure  were  she  away  from  (irassmere.' 
"A  slight  frown  darkened  her  brow,  and  she  1)it  her 
full,  red  lip.  '  (Jdod-liye !'  she  saiil,  extending  her  hand. 
"  I  touched  it  coldly,  my  brother  bowe<l,and  they  went, 
leaving  me  to  breathe  with  a  feeling  of  freedom  the  air 
which  her  presence  seemed  to  have  eontuminale.l.  ' 

"  I  can  not  speak  of  all  that  followed.     Fancy  to  your- 
self the  agony  with  which  1  heard  myself  condemned  for 
a  crime  against  ,\  hich  my  very  nature  revolted.     Davis 
and   Hlakc,  John's   overseer,  were   the   chief  witnesses 
against  me.     Oh!  the  drea.lful  i)erjury  that  was  commit- 
ted upon  that  fatal  day  !    I  can  not  now  tell  you  lialf  they 
said,  but  their  testimony  seeme(l  to  have  no  weak  point  ; 
their  evidence  appeared  perfectly  plausible  in  every  re- 
spect.    1  liad  been  to  a  party  on  the  night  of  the  rob- 
bery, and  returned  |)art  way  home  with  them.     No  om* 
knew  what  time  I  reached  (irassmere,  and  that  fiicf,  and 
the  gold  found  in  my  j)ossessi(jn,  with  the  forged  letter  to 
Holland,  in  which  the  writing  was  so  exactly  like  my 
own  that  my  own  friends  swore  that  it  was,  and  in  which 
I  stated  that,  with  cash  in  hand  and  the  proceeds  of  my 
estate  I  should  have    enough  to  live  well  in  England, 
whither  I  intended  to  go  in  order  to  bring  up  Junius  as 
a  white  child,  was  testimony  enough  to  doom  me  as  a 
villain  forever.     It  was  well  known  that  all  my  interests 
were  in  the  South,  and  that  I  should  never  leave  it  except 
to  conceal  a  crime,  to  defraud  ray  creditors,  or  to  idwcate 


334 


ALDEANE. 


Junius.  Many  bdievod  me  to  be  deeply  involved,  and 
mv  affairs  wero  in  such  a  neprleoted  condi'ion  tliat  in  the 
short  time  betwoen  my  inii)risonment  and  trial  i*  was  im- 
possible for  me  so  to  arrange  them  as  to  prove  the  con- 
trary. Many  were  greatly  puzzled  about  the  matter,  but 
there  was  scarcely  one  that  did  not  believe  me  giuUy. 
Some  strange  inVatuation,  they  argued,  some  liidden 
cause,  had  led  me  to  commit  the  crime  for  which  1  was 
about  to  suffer. 

"  Tlie  unanimous  verdict  of  the  jury  was  '  Guilty.' 
"As  the  word  was  pronounced,  a  wild  sliriek  rang 
tnrough  the  court-house,  and  I  saw  my  poor  wife  borne 
fainting  away.  She  had  come  there  in  spite  of  my 
entreaties,  ho'pi:.g  to  hear  for  me  a  full  acquittal.  I  was 
penteiiced  to  two^  years'  imprisonment,  and  thirty  lashes 
at  the  public  whipping-post ! 

"I  was  led  into  the  prison,  half  bewildered  by  the 
horrible  thoughts  that  crowded  my  mind,  and  m^arly 
crazed  by  the  dreary  prospect  before  me.  I.  was  lett 
alone,  I— aii  Arendell,  within  the  walls  of  a  prion  !  The 
night  came  on,  and  still  I  sat  with  my  burning  head 
bowed  in  my  hands,  thinking,  thinking,  till  my  brain, 
aroused  from  its  torpor,  seemed  glowing  like  fire.  At 
midniglit  I  arose,  and  walked  to  tlie  little  casement, 
resolved  soon  to  escape,  or  jierish  in  the  attempt. 

"  The  moonlight  streamed  in  through  the  barred  win- 
dow, filling  the  little  room  with  a  pale  weird  light  that 
calmed  the  raging  tempest  in  my  bosom.  I  grew  calni 
beneath  its  influence,  and  until  the  gray  dawning  of 
morning  reflected  upon  modes  of  escape.  And  at^  last 
arrived  at  the  only  practicable  one.  The  vigil  of  the 
night  brought  to  me  hope,  and  such  comfort,  that  when 
the  first  sunbeam  stole  in  to  gladden  the  darkness  that 
surrounded  me,  I  welcomed  it,  as  the  harbinger  of  liberty 
and  peace. 

"  Mv  wife  came  earlv  in  the  morning  to  see  me.     I  was 


deeply  involved,  and 
I  condi'ion  tluit  in  the 
Mit  and  trial  i'  was  ini- 
i  as  to  prove  the  con- 
l  about  the  matter,  but 
lot  believe  me  tiuilty. 
argued,  some  liidden 
crime  for  which  1  was 

jury  was  '  Guilty.' 
I,  a  wild  shriek  rang 
,w  my  poor  wife  borne 
there  in  spite  of  my 
I  full  acquittal.  I  was 
iient,  and  thirty  lashes 

ilf  bewildered  by  the 
my  mind,  and  nearly 
before  me.  I  was  lett 
walls  of  a  pri  on  !  The 
vith  my  burning  head 
hinking,  till  my  brain, 
glowing  like  fire.  At 
o  the  little  casement, 
in  the  attempt, 
irough  the  barred  win- 
a  pale  weird  light  that 
y  bosom.  I  grew  calm 
the  gray  dawning  of 
f  escape.  And  at  last 
one.  The  vigil  of  the 
uch  comfort,  that  when 
Iden  the  darkness  that 
the  harbinger  of  liberty 

rning  to  sec  me.     I  was 


^  Ln  f:a  ye. 


385 


greatly  shocked  at  the  change  that  had  taken  place  in 
hor.  Her  light  hair  hung  like  u  frame  of  duskv  -old 
around  her  fair  suffering  face;  lier  violet  eves  looked 
dreardy  forth  from  beneath  the  blue-veined  Hds  Xot  a 
particle  of  color  tinted  her  parched  lips  or  clieeks,  slio 
looked  indeed  the  personification  of  despair.  Slie  sank 
with  a  bitter  moan  into  my  arms  as  she  entered,  lavin- 
her  throbbing  head  upon  my  bosom,  while  her  heartbeat 
violently  upon  my  aching  one. 

" '  My  husband  !  my  husband  !'  she  moaned.  '  Oh  ' 
why  can  not  we  dieV  She  drew  Junius  toward  her." 
rest  !'"**  we  could  all  lie  down  togetlier  now  and  be  at 

sake'^^'''''''   ^   ^*''^'   '°*'^'""»'ly,   'live,  darling,  for   my 

"  I  drew  her  into  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room  and 
as  soon  as  she  became  sufficiently  calm,  disclosed  to  her 
my  plans  for  escape.     To  her  ardent  imagination  they 
seemed  certain  of  success,  and  with  a  joyful  heart  she 
left  me  to  prepare  what  I  considered  necessary.     She  came 
again  the  next  day,  for  there  was  no  obstacle  interposed 
to  prevent  my  seeing  her  at  any  time.     No  criminals  had 
ever  been  confined  in  Loring  before  for  any  great  offense 
or  for  any  length  of  time,  and  as  no  one  had  escaped' 
they  supposed   that  the   prison  was  secure,  thoiurh  i,i 
fact  It  was  far  from  being  so.     Any  man  with  ordhiarv 
strength  of  arm  could  break  the  slender  bars  across  the 
windows,  and  force  a  passage  out.     A  small  chisel  th-it 
my  wife  had  brought  facilitated  my  escape.     The  win- 
dows were  at  a  great  height  from  the  ground,  and  at 
midniglit,  having  severed  noiselessly  the  bars,  I  looked 
down  upon  the  quiet  street  with  a  shudder,  for  I  knew 
tliat  I  would  endanger  my  life  i„  the  spring  I  was  about 
to  make  for  freedom,  but  better  death  than  imprisonment 
and  the  infamy  of  the  lash.     I  thrust  myself  throutrh  the 
narrow  easement,  and  looked  up  with  an  earnest  thoucrh 


»86 


ALDEANE. 


voiceless  prayci-.     The  bright  autumn  moon  was  high  in 
the  l)hie  Ilea  veils,  the  iijilit  lleeoy  elou.ls  hcvered  around 
lier,  like  puyes  in  attendance  on  tlieir  <iiieen.     I  glanced 
down  the  street.     Tiie  tall  trees  waved  gently  in  the 
iaint  breeze,  and  save  the  rustling  of  their  foliage,  and 
the  shrill  monotonous  croaking  of  the  frogs  in  a  distant 
pond,  all  was  still.     Notliing  but  dark  shadows  stretch- 
ing their  duskv  lengths  upon  the  white  houses  and  sandy 
walk,  was  stirring.     All  within  the  village  were  at  rest. 
T  looked  again,  and  breathed  the  cool  frt'sh  air,  and  with 
it  a  strong^T  desire  for  liberty.     1  sprang  from  the  case- 
ment to  the  street,  and,  though  for  an  instant   I  felt 
almost  paralyzed  by  the  fearful  shock,  discovered  with 
joy  that    I   had   sustained   no   injury.      1    looked   eau- 
tiouslv  around  me.     The  little  town  was  buried  in  slum- 
ber, not  even  a  dog  was  stirring,  and  with  a  beatmg 
heart  1  walked  hurriedly  away.     Sonn^  two  miles  were 
passed  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time,  and  I  entered 
a  dark  i)ine-wood.     The  moon  was  in  the  decline,  and 
every  thing  within  the  shadowy  grove  was   painfully 
indistinct.     I  could  see  nothing  of  those  that  I  exi)ected 
would  be  there.     I  stood  for  a  moment  in   trembling 
expectation,  and  then  with  a  thrill  of  joy  I  felt  my  hand 
clasped  by  the  lingers  of  little  Junius,  and  a  moment 
after  my  wife  was  iiv  my  arms. 
" '  Is  all  n  ady  V  I  asked. 

'"  All,'  she  replied,  placing  in  my  hands  a  well-filled 
j.urse,  and  leading  me  a  few  steps  farther  into  the  forest, 
whire  my  favorite  Arrow,  a  very  swift  and  valuabh^ 
steed,  was  tied  to  a  tree.  He  neighed  with  delight  at 
seeing  me,  and  I  caressed  the  gentle  creature,  as  the 
instrument  that  would  in  reality  give  me  freedom. 

"  I  gave  my  last  directions  to  my  sweet  young  wife, 
which  were  that  she  should  dispose  of  the  estate,  settle 
with  my  few  creditors,  and  as  soon  afterward  as  she  was 
able  to 'travel,  to  go  to  New  York,  where  she  would  find 


1( 
ti 
t( 
fi 
ii 
o 
tf 
al 
hi 
T 
m 
w 
ht 
if 
m 
ki 


oh 
'I 

CO 

an 
Wm 
pu 
to 
to 
on, 
an( 
I  V 
elc 
tec 
fro 
my 
the 
set 


ALDEAN  i:. 


337 


mn  moon  was  high  in 
lovuls  h(voiTtl  around 
c'ir  (luccn.  1  glanced 
wavod  goiitly  in  the 
ig  of  their  foliage,  and 
'  Uie  frogs  in  a  distuiit 
dark  shadows  strctrli- 
,hito  liouses  and  sandy 
le  village  were  at  rest. 
;ool  fresh  air,  and  with 

s})rang  from  the  case- 

for  an  instant  I  felt 
slioek,  discovered  with 
njury.  1  lot)ked  oau- 
,vn  was  Imried  in  slnm- 
5,  and  with  a  beating 

Some  two  miles  were 
e  of  time,  and  I  entered 
^as  in  the  decline,  and 
,'  grove  was  painfully 
if  those  that  I  ex|)eeted 

moment  in  trembling 
11  of  joy  I  felt  my  hand 
Junius,  and  a  moment 


my  hands  a  well-filled 
(  farther  into  the  forest, 
?ry  swift  and  valuabk^ 
leighed  with  delight  at 
gentle  creature,  as  the 
give  me  freedom. 
>  my  sweet  young  wife, 
lose  of  the  estate,  settle 
on  afterward  as  she  was 
k,  where  she  would  find 


letters  .idvisin-_c  Iier  of  my  whereabuuts,  and  also  direc- 
tions for  liie  future.  C,  Samira  and  Junius  wen-  of  course 
to  go  witli  her.  I  could  witli  ditticulty  separate  myself 
from  him.  He  entreated  m(>  most  piteously  to  'take 
him  -R'ith  me.  Oh,  if  I  had  but  listened  to  the'plcadinffs 
of  my  own  heart  and  his  plaintive  prayers,  and  yielded 
to  them!  but  my  wife  begged  me  not  to  leave  her  all 
alone,  an.l  jiutting  him  resolutely  awav,  I  turned  to  bid 
her  a  last  farewell.  I  shall  never  forget  that  la.M  look. 
The  jiale  nujonbeams  rested  upon  a  face  as  white  as 
marble  ;  tlie  blue  eyes  were  dusky  with  uns!-ed  tears,  a 
weiglit  of  agony  seemed  breaking  her  youu<x  spirit,  and 
her  white  hands  weve  pressed  tightly  over  her  heart,  as 
if  she  fain  would  still  Ibrever  its  wild  beating.  A  low 
moan  j.assed  her  lips,  as  pressing  her  to  mv^  bosom,  1 
kissed  lier  again  and  again. 

"'Oh,  my  (iod!  tJiis  is  agony!'  she  murmured. 
'"'Tis  not  fori'ver  my  wife!  'tis  not  tbrever!'  I  ox- 
claimed,  a  dre.idf'd  foreboding  at  my  heart  the  while. 
'  My  Alice,  be  brave.    We  shall  soon  n»eet  again.' 

"  A  hand  of  iron  seemed  pressing  ujion  my  hoart.     I 
could  say  no  more,  but  with  one  burning  kiss  upon  lips 
and  brow,  I  placed  her  almost  insensible  on  the  sward, 
then  throwing  myself  into  the  saddle,  rode  madly  away,' 
pursued  by  a  hundred  maddening  thoughts  that  seemed 
to  drive  my  mind  to  the  very  verge  of  insanitv,  and  oven 
to  have  an  influence  over  my  steed,  for  he  bore  me  madly 
on,  as  if  he  knew  that  life  or  death  depended  on  his  etlbrts ; 
and  when  the  gray  dawn  stole  over  the  gloom  of  nigiit' 
I  was  far  away  safe  from  all  pursuit.     I  reined  in  at^aJ 
elegant  mansion  upon  a  fine  plantation,  wliere  I  was  cour- 
teously entertained,  although  my  host  could  not  refrain 
from  making  some  remarks  of  surprise  and  curiosity  at 
my  wild  and  haggard  appearance.     I  took  no  notice  of 
them,  and  after  breakfast  called  for  my  horse,  and  again 
sot  fort.h.     My  friend,  I  need  not  tell  you  moro  of  that 


3;]8 


ALDEAX  r:. 


hnrriofl  flifjlit  ;  suffice  it  to  say,  that  my  faithful  Arrow- 
fell  dead  on  tlie  eveninc;  of  the  third  da\.  I  at  last 
arrived  iu  New  York, and  most  anxiously  awaited  tidiuL's 
of  those  I  had  lel\  heliind.  I'or  myself  I  felt  no  fc'i  s, 
as  I  know  I  was  it  of  danger  of  being  retaken.  1  decided 
at  last  to  go  to  !.  igland,  where,  by  the  aid  of  my  friend, 
Holland,  1  might  obtain  a  situation,  in  which  I  might 
airain  make  for  myself  an  honorable  name.  I  was  unwill- 
ing to  leave  without  hearing  one  word  from  my  wife, 
and  actually  had  some  idea  of  returning  secretly  to  North 
Carolina,  althoiigh  I  knew  the  '  terpriso  would  be  at- 
ten<led  with  great  danger. 

"  One  day  I  picked  up  a  paper,  and  after  reading  the 
news,  casually  glanced  at  the  column  of  deaths ;  what 
was  my  horror  to  discover  the  name  of  my  wife !  Witii 
the  most  intense  agony  I  read  the  paragraph.  She  had 
died  in  less  than  a  week  after  I  left  her — she  and  my 
child ;  and  so  with  nauglit  to  recall  me  to  my  native  land, 
sa'-e  the  one  hope  of  clearing  my  name  of  the  foul  blot 
cast  upon  it,  the  one  purpose  to  which  I  devote  my  life, 
I  go  to  seek  strength  for  the  contest,  and  years  hence, 
perhaps,  when  that  villain  may  grow  careless  in  his  fan- 
cied security,  I  may  return  to  show  him  that  my  ven- 
geance is  grown  strong  in  slumber." 

Thus  ended  William  Arendell's  tale. 

To  this  manuscript  a  few  pages  in  Mr.  Ashton's  wri- 
ting were  added.  Aldeane  read  with  interest,  just  such 
a  record  as  she  wotdd  have  expected  of  the  writer,  one 
of  unfaltering  trust  and  kindly  aid. 

"  Dearest  Aldeane,"  it  co.nmenccd,  "  I  heard  this  tale 
as  I  know  you  have  read  it ;  I  could  not  say  mucii  to 
comfort  him,  save  to  assure  him,  that  I  would  make  liis 
cause  my  own,  and  bring  that  villain  to  justice,  if  it  were 
possible.  I  think  in  my  young  days,  I  must  have  been 
foolishly  chivalrous,  but  however  that  may  be,  I  loved 
that  persecuted  man  like  a  brother,  and  during  the  short 


1' 

P 
h 
u 
n 

P 

h( 
th 
w 

h:i 
nr 

af 

Rtl 

his 
lar 
pai 
his 

e\| 

his 

ass 

<i 

Mr. 

gen 
his 
(( 

(1 
oft 

VOt( 

niaii 
pen* 


it  my  faithful  Arrow 
\ir(l  (lay.  I  at  last 
i>iisly  awaited  tidiiiL's 
ysi'lf  I  felt  no  ftri  s, 
lor  ntakon.  1  decided 
tlie  aid  of  my  friend, 
n,  in  which  I  niit^ht 
name.  I  was  unwill- 
word  from  my  wife, 
in2  secretly  to  North 
erprise  would  be  at- 

nd  after  reading  the 
inn  of  deaths  ;  what 
Li  of  my  wife !  With 
paracrraph.  She  had 
eft  her — she  and  my 
me  to  my  native  land, 
name  of  the  foul  blot 
lich  I  devote  my  life, 
est,  and  years  hence, 
iw  careless  in  his  fan- 
>w  him  that  my  ven- 


in  Mr.  Aahton's  wri- 
ith  interest,  just  such 
ted  of  the  writer,  one 

ed,  "  I  heard  this  tale 
ould  not  say  mucii  to 
hat  I  would  make  his 
in  to  justice,  if  it  were 
ys,  I  must  have  been 
that  may  be,  I  loved 
,  and  during  the  short 


-4  IDE  AX  K. 


.•t;39 


time  we  were  togetluT,  „,ade  myself  acquainted   with 
.    e  y  pe..,, hanty  of  his  mind,  or  circumstance  that  coul. 
DC  riirncil  to  ailvantairc 

''ThaM.is  fri..,„l.  (^,,,,,es  Holland,  might  be  in  Liv.r- 
I.00I,  and  bo  ablo  by  !.is  i„rt„ence  in  business  ..irdes  t  . 
place  hun  n,  somk-  position  of  trust,  became  as  much  mv 

hope  as  h.s;  an.l  n-solving,  .f  his  friend's  assistance  w  I 
nnob  a.,    ,,     ,,  ,•„,.„  ^„,.,  ^^  ^^.^^^  ^^^         ^^^^^    -^ 

m-uid,  I  lookcl  eagerly  i;,rward  to  our  arrival  in  Liver- 

hoM^''''",  T  ""• ''  '"  '•'*''  "*>''  ^'^'  ^^'^'"^'together  to  a 
hotel,  .nd  to  our  joy  found  his  frien.l,  Charles  Holland 
therc^     \U  Avas  awaiting  the  .leparture  of  the  vessel   l,v' 
which  we  had  come,  and  whi.-h,  by  tempestuous  w^^.the,- 
had  been  so  long  at  sea.  that  she  did  not  reach  the  port 
nntil  after  the  appointed  time  for  sailin.r  ' 

"  He  was  much  surprised  at  sc'cing  Mr.  Arendell  and 
uf  er  hsten.ng  to  his  tale,  vented  his  indignation    ,  Vu 
strong  language,  that  I  was  still  more  fullv  persuaded  of 
US  en  ire  nmocence.     0„  being  left  alo„e\vith  Mr.  IIol- 
mnd   I  made  nnnute  inquiries  concerning  M,-.  Arendell's 
past  hf^^.,  and  founu  that  he  had  in  his  despair,  ma-niified 
his  faults  and  forgotten  hi.  good  qualities.     Mr.  n'^olLnd 
expatiated  warmly  upon  the  generosity  and  nobleness  of 
his  disposition,  and  entirely  repudiated  the  idea  of  even 
associating  his  name  with  crime 

Mr'  'hoII  "'"'Aff  '"';  • '  ^^'  '""'*  '^°  ^om.tV,r.^^  for  him, 
Mr    Holland!'  I  exclaimed,  warmly.     'This  persecuted 
gentleman  must  not  be  left  to  sink  under  the  assaults  of 
h.s  vile  enemies      He  must  live  to  triumph  over  them !' 
3lr.  Holland  grasped  my  hand  heartily 
"'You  are  right!'  he  said.     'I  had  almvdv  thou-^ht 
of  this  but  what  IS  to  be  done?    Arendell  has'nover'da- 
voted  l.nnself  to  business,  you  can  see  that  by  the  careless 
manner  he  has  conducted  his  own  affairs.     You  m-iv  de 
pon,l  upon  it,  that  child  of  his  will  never  get  one  cLnt  of 


340 


ALDEAXE, 


his  property,  or  freedom,  while  Lucnda  Arenclell  lne«. 
Blind  fool,  to  trust  to  his  brother's  integrity.  Why,  he 
is  lens  than  a  ehild  in  her  hands  she  rules  hnn,  hody  an.l 
houl.     Now  if  Arendell  luid  any  business  talent- 

"  'Perhaps  he  has,  but  it  never  has  been  called  lorili. 
Poor  man,  he  has  but  that  one  ehild  to  think  of  now,  and 
perhaps  if  Arendell  could  be  placed  in  a  ^'t nation  he 
mi-ht  at  sometime  be  rescued  from  bon.hv.n..  Ihe  luthei 
now  is  certainly  the  greatest  considerat urn.' 

"•That  is  true,'  he  replied,  '  and  1  know  that  I  could 
easily  obtain  a  situation  for  him,  if,  as  I  said  before,  he 
had  any  talent  for  business.'  .     .   ,  t  •  .  a 

"  '  It  would  come  with  the  necessity  tor  it,'  I  mterposed, 
impatiently.  'His  integrity  you  say,  is  or  was,  before 
thin  unfortunate  affair,  undoubted.' 

" '  Certainly  !  I  would  trust  him  with  untold  millions 

"''" '  He  is  well  educated,'  I  rest  ned, '  and  as  a  man  of  hon- 
or he  would  not  neglect  the  business  of  another  as  he  has 
his  own.    On  that  point  I  believe  you  need  liave  no  foirs 

'"There  is  reason  in  what  you  say,' said  Holland. 
•One  thing  is  certain,  Arendell's  property  is  at  present 
beyond  his  reach,  and  he  must  do  something  to  support 
himself.     Do   you   think  ho  would  object  to  going  to 

""'•''on  the  contrary,  I  think  he  would  be  glad  to  go,  for 
he  told  me  that  it  mattered  not  to  him  in  what  part  ot 
the  world  he  was  cast.  I  think  he  would  go  anywhere, 
where  he  could  establish  an  honorable  name,  and  be  tree 
from  the  persecutions  of  his  enemies.' 

'"Then  I  will  write  to  a  friend  of  mine  who  is  m  want 
of  a  .confidential  clerk  to  go  to  Calcutta,  and  if  possible 
secure  the  place  for  Arendell,  if  you  will  excuse  me  for  a 

few  moments.'  ,.   ,  ^  j -^      ,i 

» I  took  a  cigar  from  the  mantel-piece,  lighted  it,  and 

strolled  out  to  take  a  walk  through  the  Btreets  of  the  city. 


( 
\ 
I 
I 

1 

iX 

n 

t( 
tl 

P' 

H 
oi 

ha 

ffe 
he 
nu 

Sill 

for 

<)V( 

hoi 
All 
not 
pea 
whi 


■inda  Ar<>n(leU  lives, 
intosrity.     VVhy,  lie 

ruU's  him,  liody  iui'l 
siuosH  talent — ' 
las  been  eallecl  funli. 

to  think  of  now,  and 
L'd  in  a  situation,  lie 
bondatie.  The  fat  her 
eration.' 

1  know  that  1  eould 
r,  as  I  said  before,  he 

ty  for  it,'  I  interposed, 
!ay,  is  or  was ,  before 

with  untold  millions 

[, '  and  as  a  man  of  hoii- 
ss  of  another  as  he  has 
ou  need  have  no  fears.' 
ni  say,'  said  Holland, 
property  is  at  present 
,  something  to  support 
Id  object  to  going  to 

rould  be  glad  to  go,  for 
o  him  in  what  part  of 
ic  would  go  anywhere, 
rable  name,  and  be  free 
ies.' 

of  mine  who  is  in  want 
Jalcutta,  and  if  possible 
ou  will  excuse  me  for  a 

tel-piece,  lighted  it,  and 
h  the  streets  of  the  city. 


ALDEAN  R. 


841 


I  passed  Mr.  Arende!!  at  the  door  of  the  hotel,  and  asked 
Jnm  to  jo.n  „,e.  He  did  so.  I  earefullv  a  oided  a,n 
a    .su.n, o  the  position  i„p,.o.peetibr  him,  but  ai^^ 

hedged  mo  to  obtam  news  of  his  child,  and  to  watch  the 

movementsof  Jonas  Davis.  W'»ui  me 

"  '  I  conjure  you  not  to  k.t  him  escape  my  vengeance  " 

I.,  la.kot  suffering  upon  whic-h  ho  has  laid  mine  •     JK- 

<l>ld.en,   all!  all!   save  my  own  honest  nature    upon 
wl.-ch  n.y  on  y  hopes  depend;  that,  thank  God,  he^i; 

z ::,";;; ''  / ''""'  '^^-  ^'«^^^-''  ^'-^^  >•-  ^  ^^ 

AmeHc        1  /"'"  ''  ^'''^'''     ^^^^'^'"  >-»  -^urn  to 

Amcnca,  I  beg  of  you  m  some  way  to  aid  me  in  the 

to  "hlrr"'"'^  f "',  "'"'*  '""'''^^^  *^  ^^«  ^«t'''  «"d  talked 

0  bun  long  and  ehoeringly,  endeavoring  to  throw  over 

the  g loon,  of  his  darkened  life  some  ray  of  hope.     I  was 

spirits  than  I  ha.l  ever  seen  him,  and  repeated  a  part  of 
our  conversation  to  Mr.  Holland,  thus  sliowin.  that  h 
had  made  a  favorable  impression  upon  his  mind."^ 

A  f^w  days  afterward  a  lettc-r  was  received  from  the 
gentleman  to  whom  Mr.  n./.Iand  had  written,  sayinTtl  at 
he  would  take  Mr.  Arendell  upon  Mr.  Holland's  recom 
rnendation,  and  offering  a  salary  far  bevond  our  moTt 
sangume  expectations.  When  he  he.rd  of  the  3 
ortune  that  had  befallen  him,  he  seemed  perlSly 
nercome  by  it,  and  in  most  aftecting  terms  tl.Lked  Z 

Abh  )  T  1'  f^"™"««  «*  ^'^^  coiiHdence  and  esteem. 
Al  ho„^H  I  had  done  but  little  to  serve  him,  he  M-ould 
"ot  behove  It,  but  with  the  most  intense  gratitude  rt 
peated  again  and  again  his  sense  of  the  obligations  «nd^" 
which  he  was  placed. 


342 


ALDEAXR. 


"  Mr.  Holland  ami  his  wife  houu  left  for  iNmerioii.  lie 
•was  a  tint'  young  man,  ami  soonud  likoly  to  enjoy  an  un- 
cloiidod  future.  I  parted  with  him  with  feelings  of  regret, 
but  not  doubting  but  that  I  should  soon  see  him  again, 
as  he  intended  to  interest  himself  in  Arondell's  ease  at 
the  South,  and  to  let  me  know  all  the  results  of  his  inves- 
tigations. 

"  In  a  few  weeks  1  had  the  satisfoetion  of  seeing  INIr. 
Arendell  sail  for  Caleutta. 

"  '  Wateh  over  my  poor  boy,  and  aid  me  in  bringing 
my  enemies  to  justice;  and  may  (lod  reward  you  for  your 
kindness  to  a  broken-hearted  man,'  were  his  last  words, 
as  he  elasped  my  hand  at  jiarting. 

"  '  I  will !  I  will !  Good-bye  !'  I  replied,  as  I  sprang 
upon  the  dock  and  stood  there  watching  him  with  f-t range 
interest,  until  the  ship  had  moved  fur  up  the  stream,  and 
he  had  become  invisible. 

"  Nearly  six  months  passed  before  I  returned  to  Amer- 
ica. I  had  receivetl  one  letter  from  Arendell,  stating  that 
he  had  safely  arrived,  was  pleased  with  his  situation,  and 
prepared  for  whatever  might  beiall  him.  He  begged  me 
to  remember  the  promise  I  had  given  him,  and  I  set  foot 
upon  my  n  .tivc  shore  fully  intending  to  exert  myself  im- 
mediately in  his  behalf.  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Holland,  but  for 
a  long  time  received  no  answer.  Then  came  one  from  his 
w-ife,  giving  the  news  of  his  death.  He  had  died  a  few 
days  before  my  letter  arrived,  and  she  was  preparing  to 
ioin  her  friends  in  Florida.  Poor  lady !  she  appeared  in 
great  distress.  I  was  greatly  shocked  at  the  sudden 
death  of  this  fine  young  man,  and  it  interfered  sadly  with 
the  plans  I  had  made.  I  could  obtain  no  tidings  of  the 
death  of  Arendell's  wife  or  of  the  child,  for  my  ailairs 
required  my  presence  at  home,  and  I  knew  no  one  whom 
I  could  send  on  such  an  errand. 

"  At  this  time  came  my  own  domestic  troubles,  my  wife 
died,  leaving  my  little  daughter  to  my  sole  care.      She 


I 
I 

I 
I 

}i 

V 

V, 

d 
d 
m 
N 
in 
dt 
ac 

in 
pr 
in 

■W( 

inc 
pn 
ap 
fin 
ere 
bet 
vil 

Ian 
enc 
trai 
the 


left  for  i>merica.  He 
likely  to  enjoy  an  un- 
vith  feelings  of  roprct, 
Hoon  Bee  liini  again, 
in  Arondeirs  fUSC!  at 
le  results  of  his  inves- 

sfaction  of  seeing  ^Ir. 

tl  aid  me  in  bringing 

I  reward  you  for  your 

were  his  last  words, 

;  replied,  as  I  sprang 
hing  him  with  t-t  range 
fur  up  the  stream,  and 

re  I  returned  to  Amer- 
.  Arendell,  stating  that 
with  his  situation,  and 
1  him.  He  begged  me 
en  him,  and  I  set  foot 
nsr  to  exert  myself  im- 

0  Mr.  Holland,  but  for 
'hen  came  one  from  his 
1.     He  had  died  a  i'cw 

she  was  preparing  to 
lady !  she  appeared  in 
locked  at  the  sudden 
it  interfered  sadly  with 
)tain  no  tidings  of  the 
le  cliild,  for  my  affairs 

1  I  knew  no  one  whom 

lestic  troubles,  my  wife 
:o  ray  sole  care.      She 


A  IDE  A  .Vf-:. 


343 


was    the   „n..go   of  her   mother,  and    to   me  a    pri-vless 
treasure.     I  bostowed  on  her  all  the  love  whi..).  hi.her.o 
ad  been  d.v.ded  betwer,  the.n.       For  some  time  evcTv 
th.ng    was    forgotten    iu    tho  aMxi,.tv  I   suffered  uu   !,;,• 
aecom.f.     A  letter  from  Arendell  at  last  aroused  ,ne  to  a 
remembrance  of  the   pro.uis,.  I  ha.l  made  to  hint,  and 
blaming  myself  greatly  for  the  delay  that  ha.l  taken   .laee 
I  «et  myself  to  work  to  ren.e.ly  it.     ]{y  a  l„,.ky  acei.Ient 
I  discovered   that  John  Foley,  a  tmsUvorthy  man  who 
had  been  from  boyhood  a  servant  in  my  fathVr's  fanil - 
was  go.ng  to  North  Carolina,  to  look  after  some  propertV 
wh  eh  had  been  lefl  him  by  a  distant  relation.     I  Lml 
lately  conceived  the  idea  of  gaining  through  him  U  e 
<lesired  information.    I  sent  for  him,  and  <.n  hC,  arrival  a 
my  ofhce,  told   him   that  I  would  pay  his  expenses     o 
North  Carolina  and  back,  if  he  would  bring  Je  all  tl  e 

d    1  and  his  friends,  enjoining  upon  him  the  necessity  of 
acting  with  secresy  and  dispatch. 

in  regaid  to  the  manner  of  penetrating  it.  He  readily 
promised  to  do  all  I  wished,  and  he  apparently  did  so  S 
>n  a  few  months  I  was  ia  possession  of  ma.fy  facts  iha 
were  of  great  importance.  Poor  Arcndell's  wife  was 
indeed  dead,  and  the  eolonc.l  held  control  over  e 
property,  but  the  slave  child  and  Davis  had  both  Z 
appeared  not  a  trace  of  them  could  be  discovered.  The 
firs  doubtless  had  fled  for  freedom,  the  other  from  liis 
creditors,  who  loudly  lamented  their  credulity,  wliich  h^d 
villain'"  '"""^  '"'"-''^^  '^'  '''■''  ^"^t'^insinuatiiig 

"  Upon  Foley's  return  to  Boston  I  received  full  particu- 

ar^  from  him,  and  here  it  seemed  all  my  inquiric's  m^ 

end.     (Jt  course  it  was   useless  for  rv.-,  ♦„       j 

.  „  usi-iihs  lor  me  to  endeavor  to 

race  either  of  the  fugitives,  but  I  could  not  totally  'ive 
the  matter  up,  and  blast  Arenddl's  hopes  of  j„st lee?    f 


Ui 


A  LDEAXE. 


watclii'il  (liligoiilly  for  tlic  sliiihtost  dew  to  the  wlicro- 
iilxmts  of  litlur  ol'  tlic  iiiisHiiiu;  oiu's.  Mr.  AroiiiU'll 
Hrrmcd  ill  (U'siiiiir  wlicii  I  (■oiniiiuiiicatcd  to  liiin  tlio  loss 
of  liis  son.  lie  wrote  cut  rent  iiij^  inc  not  to  dcsisl  from 
my  scaroli.  INly  |)ati'rniil  fi'oliiiL;s  wcro  aroused,  and  1  re- 
iicwt'd  it  with  fresh  ener<j;y.  Everywhere  tliat  I  tliouj;lit 
the  ehiUl  eould  ]iossil»ly  have  strayed,  I  jdaeed  peopU'  on 
tlie  wateh  for  him,  Imt  with  no  avail.  My  seareh  for 
Davis  was  not  more  successful :  for  eight  years  I  heard 
nothing  of  him. 

"  t)nu  winter  day  1  lefl  my  liomo,  and  went  to  Kvans- 
ville,  to  consult  the  well-known  lawyer  from  whom  the  vil- 
higo  took  its  name.  I  remained  there  all  night,  intending 
to  go  up  to  the  house  in  the  mornhig.  A  large  party  had 
gathered  in  the  bar-room,  and  as  I  was  fond  of  observing 
human  nature,  I  took  a  seat  by  the  glowing  tire,  instead 
of  retiring  to  my  own  cheerless  apartment,  ami  was  for 
some  time  much  amused  by  the  manners  and  <  onversa- 
tion  of  the  rustic  crowd.  A  song  had  been  demanded, 
and  they  were  wrangling  about  who  shoidd  sing  it,  when 
a  heavy  knock  sounded  upon  the  door,  followed  immedi- 
ately by  the  entrance  of  a  small,  spare  man  who  strode 
up  to  the  tire  without  noticing  any  one. 

"'It  is  Jonas  ><evins.  What  can  bring  him  hen^V 
said  one,  in  a  low  voici'. 

"  The  name  struck  me  as  natural,  but  I  could  not  for  a 
moment  remember  where  I  had  heard  it.  Meanwhile  I 
regarded  him  attentively..  The  spare,  wii-y  figure,  the 
sharp  face,  the  thin  sandy  hair,  and  above  all  the  piercing 
cunning  eyes,  with  their  expression  of  dormant  evil, 
reminded  me  strongly  of  the  description  Arendell  had 
given  of  Jonas  Nevins  Davis,  and  I  immediately  came 
to  the  conclusion  that,  in  the  man  bifore  me,  I  saw  the 
loug-tjought  persecutor. 

"  When  ho  had  warmed  himself  sutliciently,  he  turned 
and  looked,  at  the  company. 


it  (lew  to  the  wliiTC- 
oiu's.  Mr.  Art'udcll 
licatcd  to  liim  tlio  loss 
inc  not  t<i  desist  iVoiii 
voro  aroused,  and  I  ro- 
•  whore  that  I  thoiiijht 
ed,  I  j)laeed  piuple  on 
wall.  My  search  for 
)r  eight  years  I  heard 

0,  and  went  to  Kvans- 
yer  I'roni  whom  the  \  11- 
■re  all  night,  intending 
ig.  A  large  piirty  had 
was  fonil  of  observing 
L'  glowing  tire,  instead 
jiartnient,  and  was  for 
manners  and  i  onversa- 

liatl  been  demanded, 
lo  should  sing  it,  when 
loor,  followed  immedi- 
spare  man  who  strode 

one. 
can  bring  him  hereV 

1,  but  I  could  not  for  a 
leard  it.  Meanwhile  1 
spare,  wiry  figure,  the 

above  all  the  ])icrcing 
lion  of  dormant  evil, 
crijition  .\rendoll  had 
I  I  immediately  came 
I  before   me,  I   saw  the 

sutlieientK',  he  turned 


ALD£A Xff. 


3t5 


"•What  can  bring  you  out  to-night,  Mr.  Xevins?' 
asked  one  of  the  boldest.  --^iMnsr 

"'Husiness!  business!'  he  replied,  scowling.  'lam  not 
one  to  .'ome  to  such  a  place  to  drink  and  gossip.     When 

suppo^-l' ""'  '  ''*'  ''  '"'"  ""'""  ''"'■''°'''  '■""  ''""^'  ''"'*'  r 
"  His  questioner  turned  J.ack,  (Somewhat  abashed  and 
Davis  aga.n  turned  to  the  lire,  warming  his  han.ls  before 
It,  by  rubbmg  iImmu  softly  and  noiselesslv  togc.ther,  as  if 
hewc.re  prepanng  then,  and  smoothing"  them  for  some 
delicate  operation  that  required  the  utmost  ricety  of 
touch.  Sueh  you  km.u  w:,s  his  custom  in  the  most  ordi- 
nary  matters;  a  show  of  dexterity  had  in  some  way  to  be 
given  to  all  he  did.  A  gloom  seemed  to  have  falh-n  over 
tlic  hitherto  merry  company.  Tlio  silence  was  first 
broken  by  the  unwelcome  intruder,  who,  turning  su.ldenlv 
around,  said : —  '^  J 

'"I  suppose  you  all  know  that  my  best  farm-hand  has 
lett  me  f     Can  any  of  y(ui  reconmiend  another  ••" 

"'Why,  there's    Tom   Stokes,'   sai.l    one,  d.'.ubtfully. 
Or  Harry  C  arter,'  adde.l  another,  in  the  same  tone.      * 
'"1  want  no  such  lazy  clowns  about  me  !'  he  exclaimed 
impatiently.     'A  good  man  I  must  have.     I  can  not  do' 
without  one  !' 

"  My  mind  was  made  up  in  a  moment.     '  I  think  I  could 
recommend   a   man   that   would   suit  you,   sir,'   I   said 
politely.  ' 

"lie  regarded  me  for  a  moment  with  a  searchinf'  look, 
and  I  suppose  saw  that  I  was  a  stranger  and  a  gentleman' 
'  I  should  be  much  obliged  to  you,  sir,  if  you  could,'  he 
returned,  respectfully. 

" '  I  should  like  to  speak  to  you  in  private,'  I  said. 

"'Certainly!  Here,  landlord,  show  us  into  another 
room.' 

"He  did  so,  and  we  were  soon  alone. 
"I  recommended  the  servant  I  had   in  view,  in   the 
16* 


34rt 


ALDEANE. 


liij^lu-Mt  terms.  Ik'  ofrin-tl  jjooil  wngoH,  and  I  promised 
to  Hciid  llic  man  down  iit  ii  few  dayn.  I  endeavored  hy 
many  ii  cleverly  put  (piestioii  to  tind  out  iVom  wlieiice  lie 
eanio,  but  lio  evaded  all  my  inquiries  with  tlui  most  dex- 
teronx  replies.  However  I  was  well  s.ilislied  that  lie  was 
none  other  than  the  man  I  Hou>.dit,  and  made  no  Hcruple 
in  sendinj,'  Foley,  who  was  by  this  time  an  aceomplished 
detective,  to  his  house,  to  serve  me  as  I  wishe<l,  and  be- 
fore long,  with  lull  instructions,  ho  was  domesticated 
thuro. 

"A  year  j)assed,  and  nothing  occurred,  when  one  day 
Foley  came  to  my  house,  and  asked  to  sot'  me.  Of  course 
he  was  immediately  admitted. 

"  He  told  me  that  on  the  day  before,  when  jjoing  up  to 
the  garret,  he  lu'ard  an  exclanuition  of  surprise  from 
Ulrs.  Kevins,  and  looking  cautiously  in— for  lie  was 
always  upon  the  look-out  for  such  surprises- -he  saw  her 
smblenly  raise  from  the  floor  a  small  box,  which  she 
recognized,  and  which  ap[)eared  to  fill  her  with  tlie  great- 
est consternation  and  surprise.  She  wrested  open  the 
lid,  and  eagerly  perused  the  letters,  which  it  is  almost 
needless  to  say,  were  afterward  brought  to  me  by  the 
faithful  Foley.  Or  at  least,  all  Bavc  the  one  which  you 
will  find  indorsed  with  the  name  of  Evans.  I  will  explain 
to  you  when  we  meet,  why  I  did  not  at  once  endeavor 
to  procure  this  letter  from  Mrs.  Nevins,  and  the  letter 
itself  will  explain  how  impossible  it  was  for  us  to  proceed 
against  Nevins  without  the  important  testimony  it  con- 
tained. 

"  Of  what  occurred  after  these  letters  came  into  my 
possession,  and  while  we  waited  for  the  most  important,  I 
need  say  nothing.  You  will  conjecture  that  I  was  in  con- 
stant communication  with  Mr.  ArendolU  and  that  my  in- 
terest in  Arthur  and  yourself,  8j)rang  from  the  fact  of 
your  near  connection  with  his  late  wife,  and  his  still  exist- 
ing enemy. 


/7. 

I  wftgoH,  aiul  I  proinincd 
liiVH.  I  t'lidciivorcd  by 
tiiiil  out  iVuiii  whoiii'i'  lie 
irifs  with  tli«  most  dex- 
.tll  K.ilislii'd  that  lie  wan 
il,  and  ma(h>  no  Hcriiph- 
IN  time  an  accompliNhtd 
mv  as  I  wished,  and  V»e- 
s,  lie  was  domestit'att'd 

occniTfd,  when  one  day 
.'d  to  HOC  me.     Of  course 

leforc,  when  {Toing  up  to 
lation  of  surprise  from 
tiously  in — for  he  was 
li  surprises  -he  saw  her 
I  small  box,  which  she 

0  fill  her  with  the  great- 
She  wrested  open  the 

tcrs,  which  it  is  almost 

broupht  to  me  by  the 

'avc  the  one  which  you 

of  Evans.  I  will  explain 

1  not  at  once  endeavor 
Nevins,  and  the  letter 
it  was  for  us  to  proceed 
)rtant  testimony  it  con- 

3  letters  came  into  my 
ir  the  most  important,  I 
>cture  that  I  was  in  con- 
rcndelU  Jind  that  my  in- 
)rang  from  the  fact  of 
wife,  and  his  still  exist- 


AinKA^K. 


847 


"I  have  hear.1  yo„  call  n,..,  „,y  child,  the  „,o.t  artier, 
:><'m..n,  what  will  you  say  when    ou  kn  ,w  tha    in  a  I  mv 

15ut  I  throw  myself  ujion  your  m.rcy.  "      *^" 

"ClIAULKM    AsiITOJf." 


Ik 


T 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

IMl'OiriAXT    COKUKSl'OXDKNTK. 

Ai.DKAXE  smilo.l  as  she  read  Mr.  Asliton's  appeal. 
There  Keemed  sometliino;  almost  absurd  in  liis  offering 
any  excuse  for  a  dissembleuKMU  vhieli  had  been  caused 
bv  such  worthy  and  totally  disinterested  motives.  But 
without  pausing  lon.i;  to  think  of  this  she  turned  to  the 
package  of  letters,  which  she  i)erccived  were  copies  of  the 
oii^inals,  and  were  neatly  folded  and  numbered. 

The  first  which  she  opened  was  quite  short,  and  bore 
no  date. 

"  My  DKAii  X. : —  1  •  1  1    1 

"  You  did  well  to  leave  here,  as  soon  as  your  bird  had 
flown,  for  the  excitement  throughout  the  country  has 
been  greater  than  ever.  L.  is  nearly  mad  with  rage 
at  the'escape.  A.  is  seriously  ill,  as  was  of  course  to  be 
expected.  I  shall  write  you  again  in  a  i\'^Y  days.  Isn't 
New  York  a  dangerous  place  to  stay  in  ?  He  is  more 
likely  to  be  waiting  there  than  any  place  else. 

"P.  S.     A.  A.  died  yesterday."  "  Yours,  R.  R 

The  second  epistle  was  far  more  explicit,  and  was 
addressed  to 

"  Jonas  Xkvixs,  Esq. :— So  you  saw  ArcndcU  off  for 
Europe  yesterday.  You  were  wise  to  let  him  go,  for  y^>ii 
have  had  your  revenge,  and  L.  is  far  more  at  ease  with 
the  width"  of  the  ocean  between  her  and  her  luisband  s 
brother.     I   am    surprised    that    you    should    wa^.te  so 


A  Lj)  r:Axi:. 


840 


XXXIV. 


:sro.N'i)KN(;ii:, 


.'ad  Mr.  Asliton's  appeal. 
)st  absurd  in  his  ofloring 
It  v;irK'li  had  hocn  caused 
sintcrestod  motives.  But 
;  of  this  she  turned  to  the 
erceivod  wore  copies  of  the 
ed  and  numbered, 
was  quite  short,  and  bore 


?,  as  soon  as  your  bird  had 
routihout  the  country  has 
is  nearly  mad  with  rage 
ill,  as  was  of  course  to  be 
gain  in  a  few  days.  Isn't 
?"to  stay  in?  Ho  is  more 
1  any  place  else, 
tiy."  "Yours,  R.  B. 

ir  more   explicit,  and  was 

)  you  saw  Arendcll  oft"  for 
!  wise  to  let  him  go,  for  you 
L.  is  far  more  at  ease  with 
•cen  her  and  her  luisband's 
hat    vou    should    wa-ite  so 


much  niaudliu  sentimentality  over  a  woman's  death,  es- 
])ecially  oiu'  wliose  licart  you  deliberately  broke.  There 
was  some  excuse  for  my  shedding  a  few  tears,  foi-  1 
had  no  grudge  either  against  her  or  Arendell,  and  after 
all,  L.  has  giv.ii  nie  but  lialf  tlie  money  we  have  fooled 
out  of  her  doting  husband,  whicii  is  liardly  fair  after  all 
the  risk  I  ran. 

"  For  even  after  you  had  got  the  money  from  the  safe, 
and  given  those  iX'sv  wrenches  (o  the  lock  and  window,' 
you  know  you  woidd  never  have  gotten  it  into  Arendell's 
house  but  (or  lUi'.     So  yon'U  see,  Xevins,  that  I  <lon't 
consuler  myself  half  paid,  and  the  only  way  for  you  to 
keep  me  In.m  telling  a  tale  that  you  woul.in't  want  to 
hear,  is  for   you  to  refrain  from  bothering  I.ucinda  for 
money,   as   I   want   for  myself  all   that   s^ho  can  spare. 
What  I  should  a.' .  i.  -  you  to  do  would  bo  to  go  some- 
where and  get  lost,  for  I've  wit  enough  to  know  that  I 
can  make   myself  safe   at  any  time   by  tuniino-   State's 
evidence.     Al'ter  all,  I  simply  put  a  sum  of  numey  iu  a 
man's  safe,  while  you,  on  the  contrary,  abstracted  one  from 
the  bank  of  which  you  were  cashicir.    And  by  the  way,  your 
work  was  bungliugly  done,  for  any  expert  would  have 
seen    at  once,  that  a  crow-bar  had  nothing  to  do  witli 
forcing  back  th.at  lock,  though  I  must  say  you  defaced 
the  door  very  perfectly,  and  I  wonder  how  you  did  it  so 
quietly. 

"  By  ( he  way,  you  asked  me  something  about  Arendell's 
child.  No,  it  did  not  die,  but  on  the  contrary  was  one  of 
the  finest  little  girls  I  ever  saw.  Lu  wanted  it,  but  a 
sister  of  3Irs.  A.'s  interfered,  and  giving  up  all  the  prop- 
erty to  the  just  [?]  demands  of  the  creditors,  took  oft" 
the  child  in  a  state  of  most  virtuous  and  heroic  indigna- 
tion, saying  it  should  never  even  bear  the  name  of  its  vile 
father— so  you  may  guess  liow  he  is  looked  ujion  iiere." 

Aldeane  paused  and  trembled  violently— a  sus])icion  of 
the  truth  at  this  moment  dawned  upon  her.     Could  i;  bi; 


^^o. 


•s:>o 


A  ..DEANE. 


th-it  she She  would  not  trust  liers<-lf  to  conjecture 

more,  but  wildly  read  on :—  . 

"The  queerest  thinii  of  all  is,  that  this  sister  has  smee 
disappeared  iVoni  her  home.  She  has  sol.l  out  every 
thin-  an.l  gone  North.  Of  course  no  one  hut  ourselves 
are  partieularlv  interested  in  her  whereabouts,  but  as  a 
friend,  mv  dear  Nevins,  I  should  advise  you  to  look  on 
for  Mrs.  Guthrie,  a  widow  with  two  children,  the  eldest 
rc-ally  her  own  sou,  the  second  a  girl  which  passes  lor 

her  daughter."  i     i      <•  ii 

The  letter  slipped  from  Aldea.ic's  grasp,  and  she  tell 
to  the  Qoor  unconscious.     The  surprise  was  too  great  lor 
her  to  bear.     How  long  this  swoon  continued  she  could 
never  tell,  but  some  one  rapped  at  the  door  and   sum- 
moned her  to  tea  before  she  noticed  that  night  had  come, 
and  it  flashed  upon  her  that  she  was  the  child  ot  the 
unfortunate  William  Arendell,  and  of  Alice   his   wife, 
whose  tragical  late,  so  often  hinted  at,  had  but  then  been 
made  fully  known  to  her.     And  Mr.   Asliton,  and  her 
father,  how  long  had  her  identity  been  known  to  them. 
She  turned  eagerly  to  the  back  of  the  letter,  and  saw 
inscribed  thereon  the  name  of  Evans.     It  was  the  letter 
her  supposed  mother  had  secreted ;  and  trembling  with 
emotion  she  concluded  its  perusal :— 

"There  is  one  point  Lucinda  is  anxious  upon,  and 
that  is  that  you  should  take  some  other  name.  Dropping 
the  Davis  is,  in  your  case,  not  enough,  for  your  other 
names,  Jonas  Nevins,  are  too  well  known  here  not  to  be 
recognized  immediately  by  that  woman  if  she  has  a  par- 
ticle of  sense,  which  it  is  safe  to  suppose  she  has. 

"I  protest  against  any  further  demK  ids  for  money. 
YouknowLugave  you  a  round  three  thousand  tor  simply 
abstracting  a  few  hundreds  from  that  old  safe  and  coun- 
terfeiting Arendell's  writing  in  that  stupid  letter  to 
Holland.  That  was  really  rich-j"st  such  a  maudhn  lot 
of  nonsense  as  he  would  be  expected  to  write  about  that 


[ 


d 
t 
a 
I 
t( 
n 


•list  herself  to  conjecture 

that  tliis  sister  has  since 
She  hiis  sol.l  out  every 
irse  no  oiii-  Imt  ourselves 
cr  whereabouts,  but  as  a 
\<\  atlvise  you  to  look  out 
11  two  children,  the  eldest 
1  a  tjirl  which  passes  lor 

cane's  grasp,  and  she  fell 
surprise  was  too  great  lor 
woou  continued  she  could 
ed  at  the  door  and  svini- 
ticed  that  night  had  come, 
she  was  the  child  of  the 
I,  and  of  Alice   his   wife, 
iilcd  at,  had  but  then  been 
ind  Mr.   Ashton,  and  her 
tity  been  known  to  them? 
ck'of  the  letter,  and  saw 
r  Evans.     It  was  the  letter 
rcted  ;  and  trembling  with 

isal  :— 

mda  is  anxious  upon,  and 
me  other  name.  Dropping 
ot  enough,  for  your  other 
well  known  here  not  to  be 
at  woman  if  she  has  a  par- 
to  suppose  she  has. 
rther  demK  ids  for  money, 
d  three  thousand  for  simply 
•om  that  old  safe,  and  coun- 
;  in  that  stupid  letter  to 
!li_just  such  a  maudlin  lot 
xpected  to  write  about  that 


■i 


\ 


ALDEA^E.  ggj 

boy,  whom,  by  the  way,  I. holds  with  a  tight  rein 


now. 


"  Let  mo  know  by  what  name  to  address  you  next. 


"  Yours  over, 


li.  I 


JI.AKIO 


1  e  name  of  the  overseer  in  full,  „„  attempt  at  disguise 
hn  lather  a  b  azonmg  forth  of  his  own  identity,  and  t  S 
of  the  man  an.l  woman  who  had  conspired  to  ru  n  William 
Arendcii~hcr  father— her  father 

How  she  longed  to  fly  to  him,'and  throwincr  hor  irms 
around  hmi  promise  him  all  a  daughter's  love"a  d  d  uT 
-she  sobbed  upon  his  bosom  all  ^  true-hearted::!^  ^^ 
P>tv.  Then  she  thought  with  a  faltering  heart  tint  he 
must  have  heard  of  her  existen<-e  coolly.^^^lsc  he  t„ H 
have  hurried  to  claim  her  as  his  child,  L  d  clasp  her    o 

moment.     .\o,  no,  no !  he  was  waiting  to  justify  himself 

enrr  T  T'^  ''  ^^'•'  ^"*  *«  *''^  -•'•>•«  workUi    in  o 
ence  before  he  would  sufler  her  name  to  be  mingled 

n  •.  V  'T  •'^"  ^'"^^  ^'««  ff^''»"--»«,  =>ll  that  was 

noble  and  she  firmly  said  she  would  await  patie  t  yT" 
own  time,  even  while  slic  felt  that  to  her    he  ^ZJZ 
oy  on  earth  would  be  to  be  clasped  in  her  fath^  N  em 
brace  to  declare  to  him  that  she  believed  him  in.  ocen^ 
even  ,f  the  whole  world  was  against  him  ' 

>V  hen  she  grew  calmer  she  read  the  other  letters  not 
one  of  |vliic  1  contained  any  reference  to  her  as  William 

«pon  DaMss  obstinacy  m  still  retaining  the  name  of 
levins,  a  great  many  humorous  jests  upon  Afrs.  Guthrie's 
Illness  in  not  i.cognizing  him,  an.l  much  admiration  of 
t  e  boldness  of  Davis  ui  making  her  his  wife,  and  various 
alusions  to  money  matters,  in  which  it  was  shown  tlia 
Lucinda  Arendell  to  the  day  of  her  death  had  been  form 

eTnT^TV"''  '"■»"^""™^  '"•  ^"^"^'-'^'^  coadjutor  i 
revenge.     There  was,  also,  some  mention  made  of  the 


352 


ALDHA  ^E. 


liicht  of  Junius,  ll.ou-l.  that  was  evi.lontlv  .•onsulcre.l  a 
,.attc.r  of  socou-lavy  inM-n-tan.-o      Tlu.  last    'Jt.v  a  one 
particularly  intoresto-l  AMoano.     Ii  o.ntaino.l  i"  I  ,.a.t    - 
l.,,,s  of  thV  a.ath  of  .Mrs.  Aron.l.ll,  an.l  ^va^H•.l  Nc.  ns 
of  the  utter  uselessness  of  a,.,.lyin,^   '^'^'';'T\m 
further  ren,ittances,  or  of  threaten.n.^  Colonel  Arendell, 
who  haa  been  prepared  by  his  ^vife's  eontess.on  to  deelare 
his  brother's  innoeence,  and  challenge  a  secon.    mvest.^a- 
tion  of  the  matter,  which  nii.u'ht    prove  troubleson.e  to 
Nevins,  lunvever  securely  he  nn^^ht  fanc^y  1>.nnseU  Inch  en 
'.'And  now,"  concluded  the  letter,  "we  are  excellent 
friends,  and  as  friends  let  tis  part.     It  is  iar  safes    tor 
both  of  us   that  we  now  die  to  each  other.     Wo  have 
mutual  interests  in  preservins  this  secret   but  can  have 
none  for  torniontins  ourselves  with  the  discussion  of  it 
So  far  our  littl.  venture  has  paid  us  well,  and    here   s  no 
occasion  for  us  to  encroach  upon  each  other      All  you  have 
to  do  is  to  keep  your  wife  as  well  blinded  as  she  is  noj 
and  I  will  take  care  to  keep  the  conscience  and  guaid  the 
tonoue  of  John  Areiidell.  Tiiere  can  be  no  reason  for  your 
answering  this,  so  here  we  part.  i,    r  » 

"  Wishing  you  success,  I  remain  yours,  n.  y*- 

But   one   paper  now  remained  to  be  read,  that  was 
indorsed  with  the  name  of  Ev.ns,  and  as  Aldeane  opened 
it  she  recognized  the  handwriting  ot  her  whom  she  had 
loved  and  mourned  as  a  mother.     It  was  the  documen 
which  Arthur  had  so  long  believed  in  existence  and  had 
so  anxiously  sought.     It  was  a  ful'  confession  ot    he  p  ot 
which  ha.l  been  planned  against  William  Arendell  by  Ins 
brother's  wite,  Lucinda  Arendell,  and  the  cashier  oi  the 
bank,  Jonas  Nevins  Davis,  and  of  its  execution  by  them 
assisted  bv  Uiohard  l>lake.      This  confession  was  signed 
by  Jonas' Nevins  Davis,  alhu  Jcnas  isevms,  and  wit- 
nessed by  John  Foley  and  Ann  Conway. 
Beneath  this  these  words  were  written : 


c 
k 
o 
^\ 

si 


di 

fe 
si 
d( 
h( 

as 
to 
sli 
A 


E. 


T 


A  LD  IJA  X  !■]. 


evidi'iitly  considoretl  a 
Till'  last  letter  alone 
Ii  oontaiiu'd  lull  imrtic- 
ell,  !ui«l  wanu.l  Nt'vins 
yiivj;  to  tlic  writer  iVir 
"niiiH  Colonel  Areiidell, 
e's  confession  to  ileclare 
en<'e  a  seeijnd  investiija- 
t  ]>ntvo  tronVilesonie  to 
ht  tUney  l-iniself  liidck-n. 
L'tter,  "we  arc  excellent 
irt.     It  is  iar  safest  for 

each  other.  We  have 
his  secret,  V)ut  can  have 
k-ith  the  discussion  of  it. 

I  us  well,  and  there  is  no 
ach  other.     All  you  have 

II  blinded  as  she  is  now, 
conscieiu-e  and  guard  the 
can  be  no  reason  for  your 


un  yours, 


K.  B." 


(d  to  be  read,  that  was 
IS,  and  as  Aldeane  opened 
iig  of  her  whom  she  had 
r."  It  was  the  document 
ved  in  existence,  and  had 
ful'  confession  of  the  \>\ot 

William  Arendell  by  his 
11,  and  the  cashii'r  of  the 
of  its  execution  by  them, 
his  confession  was  signed 

Jcnas  Kevins,  and  wit- 
Conway. 
re  written : 


303 


"  I  iiave  siuriH'd  the  above  confession,  which  I  swear  to 
be  true  in  every  i)arti'adar,  in  earnest  of  the  sincerity 
with  whi.'h  I  bind  myself— in  consideration  of  my  wife's 
elemency.  in  witldioldin;;  from  the  public  the  secret  she 
has  gained— to  .ducate,  at  my  sole  cost,  Arthur  (iuthrie 
the  son  of  the  late  Arthur  (Jutlirie.of ,  North  Caro- 
lina, and  Ellen  his  wife,  and  also  the  cl.i!,l  known  as 
theirs,  but  who  is  in  truth  Aldeane  Arendell,  tlie  dau.diter 

oj  \\  illiam  Arendell,  of ,  North  Carolina,  and  Alice 

his  wife. 

"JoxAs  Nevins  Davis." 

This    then  was  the   bond  of  wliicJi  Mrs.  Xovins  had 
faintly  made   mention  upon    lier  <leath-bed.     The  bond 
and  confession  which  she  had  wrested  from  him  in  liis 
mortal  terror,  and  which  liad  more  than  once  tiiereafter 
placed  her  very  life  in  jeopardJ^     It  seemed  to  Aldeane 
that  nothing  more  complet.'  tluui  the  evidence  before  her 
could  be  necled.      (^nc  of  the  witnesses  to  this  bond  she 
knew  was  alive,  and  these  letters  of  Blake's  were  they  not 
overwhelming   proofs   of  tlie    cuilt  of  himself  and   Iiis 
wretched  confidant.     She    could  not   imagine   whv   Jlr 
Ashton  had  said  they  should  need  her  aidf    What'could 
she  do,  that  had  not  already  been  .lorn?     Vox-  hours  she 
paced  her  room  nearly  wild  with  excitement  and  when  tlie 
darkness  and  stillness  of  night  had  settle.l  upon  the  place 
leeling  choked  and  stifled  witli  the  closeness  .,f  her  rooni 
she  stole  down  into  the  gard.  us,  and  wandered  up  and 
down,  thinking,  thinking,  thinking,  till  it  seemed  as  if  her 
heart  and  brain  would  burst. 

Ila.l  Arthur  known  this  long?  Would  he  love  her  still 
as  his  sister?  llnd  ]iluke  escaped?  These  weiv  the 
totally  dissimilar  questions  that  pursued  her,  until  at  last 
she  resolve.1  to  silence  the  last  at  least,  n.d  hurrvincr  to 
Aunt  Ivoxy's  cabui  culh.,!  her  out  ami  buldlv  asked  if 
aught  had  been  heard  of  hiin. 


n.-)! 


ALDBANE. 


T 


'*  Why  laws,  yes !"  cried  Aunt  Hoxy,  flarting  back  in 
auiazcmcnt.  Doy  done  "  rested  liini  dis  brossod  mornin'. 
Massa  William's  conic  back,  and  Mass  Kichard  he  robbed 
<le  bank,  and  dat  oder  fellah  dat  liated  Mass  William  so. 
An'  bress  ye,  jest  come  in,  Miss  Aldeane,  an'  Samiry'U  tell 
ye  all  about  it;  an'  do  Lord  kiioAvs  I  al'ays  said  Mass 
William  neber  took  dat  money,  an'  1  reckon  thounh  Mass 
John  swore  he'd  sell  us  all  if  we  breaved  a  word  to  ye, 
I  guess  olc  lloxy'll  toll  you  now  !" 

And  so  Aldeane,  half  laintinj^,  was  thrust  into  a  chair  to 
hear  once  more  the  ttile  of  her  father's  shame,  and  her 
mother's  broken  heart,  and  though  more  than  once  she 
seemed  Kwooning  away,  and  found  relief  only  in  violent 
weeping,  she  kept  inviolate  the  secret  of  lier  birth,  and 
left  the  cabin  at  length  witli  persuasions  of  her  father's 
innocence  so  infinitely  strengthened  that  no  power  of 
•^arth  or  heaven  would  for  an  instant  have  had  power  to 
east  a  doubt  upon  it. 


w 

in 
ct 

wi 

Ai 
wi 
wi 

de: 

< 

oqi 
hai 
tha 
wil 

the 
her 
M'hi 
"I 

me 

(( 

are 
the 
Stan 


E. 


Roxy,  flarting  hack  in 
liin  dis  brossod  inorniu'. 
Hass  llichard  ho  roblu'd 
liatod  Mass  William  so. 
Idoaiio,  ail'  Samiry'll  tell 
ows  I  al'ays  said  Mas?; 
!»'  1  reckon  thounh  Mass 

brcavc'd  a  word  to  ye, 

k-as  thrust  into  a  chair  to 
father's  shame,  and  her 
2;h  more  than  once  she 
id  relief  only  in  violent 
iccret  of  lier  birth,  and 
suasions  of  her  ftither's 
!ned  that  no  power  of 
tant  have  had  power  to 


CHAPTER    XXXV. 

Ar.nEAXK's    .MISSION-    AM)    ITS    KESCLts. 

^^^Kn  31i.  Ashton  j^reeted  her— "  What  aid  c-in   \  cV 
in  prov.ncr  n,y  father's  innocence '     A,,  no    tl         f  f 
conclusive  ?"  '  ^^  "'^'^^  ^*-'"c'-s 

"><'o,"   said  Mr.    Ashton,  gravel v    "for   HI..lw.'« 
llnrsolf  ,,„1   „i,„  r   ,,  «-ovoB«.,V  pcscTMion  of 

whictSio"!  ':L"°„'::]"°"t::,  ',:r»"  r'" """''"" 

"  I  ,Ki„k  r ,„„,o„,a„d  ;:  at  yo;  wt   ::',„t  °  v"""'1' 


P.50 


.(  nDEA  KE. 


Ashton,  how  I  loiiij  to  hoc  my  father.     Why  will  he  not 
iilliiw  nic  to  hasten  to  him  V" 

And  tiien  Mr.  Asliton  tohl  her  of  the  wihl  joy  of  Mr. 
Arendell,  when  he  found  that  his  eiiild  still  lived,  but 
after  his  tirst  passionate  deliu'ht  was  passed,  when  he 
found  himself  in  the  Siime  country,  in  \.\w  same  State,  he 
felt  that  ho  could  not  see  her  until  he  had  cleared  away 
the  reiiroaeii  that  rested  upon  him,  until  she  could 
embraei'  him  without  a  doid)t. 

"1  could  do  that  iU)W  I"  cried  Aldeane,  with  tears. 
"  Indeed,  indeeil,  I  could  !  Oh.  Mr.  Ashton,  1  feel  so  lost. 
My  tlarliui;  brother,  mine  iu>  longer,  my  nowly-declared 

father ^" 

She  paused,  and  then  with  a  scream  ran  forward,  and 
was  clasped  in  Arthur's  arms. 

"  What,  you  cold-hearted  yirl !"  he  exclaimed,  embra- 
cina;  her  warmly.     "Have  you  already  discarded  me V" 

r>ut  she  could  only  sob,  and  call  him  her  dear  brother, 
her  di'ar,  dear  brother,  and  when  she  tjrew  calmer  lie 
told  iier,  what  Mr.  Xevins  had  said  of  her  years  before, 
upon  the  day  his  mother  was  buried. 

"  And  of  course,  althounii  I  suspected  whose  cliild 
you  were,  I  dared  not  mention  it,"  interrupted  3Ir.  Ash- 
ton, wijiinGj  his  eyes  and  I'ouj^hinu;  vehemently.  "  \'ou 
see  your  mother  had  the  only  letter  that  referred  to  the 
matter,  and  I  d.ired  not  raise  hopes  that  I  couldn't  con- 
firm." 

And  then  .Vrthur  told  her  liow  Charles  Kvans  had 
found  the  long-lost  docViments,  and  handed  them  to  him 
as  !i  wediling  gift,  and  how  eopii's  of  them  had  been  for- 
warded to  ^Ir.  .\rendell,  at  Calcutta,  and  how  they  had 
U(jt  reached  him  until  weeks  after  they  should  have  done 
so,  and  how  he  (Arthur)  had  thought  he  never  M'ould 
come,  and  enable  him  to  defy  the  enemy  that  was  secretly 
ruining  him,  and  finally  the  consternation  and  surprise 
of  Nevins  upon  his  arrest,  and  the  necessity  that  existed 


TE. 

thor.     Wliy  will  lie  not 

T  of  tlic  wilil  joy  of  Mr. 
ills  cliild  still  lived,  but 
it  was  iijissfil,  when  lio 
try,  in  thu  same  State,  he 
itil  lie  had  cleared  away 
m    him,  until    she  eould 

ied  Aldeane,  with  tearn. 
.Mr.  iVshtoii,  1  feel  so  lost, 
iiiger,  my  newly-declared 

scream  ran  forward,  and 

•1 !"  he  exclaimed,  emhra- 
iil ready  discarded  me?" 
all  him  her  dear  brother, 
hen  she  yrew  calmer  In- 
said  of  her  years  before, 
iiried. 

[  suspected  whose  cliild 
it,"  interrin»ted  3Ir.  Ash- 
\\\\\%  vehemently.  "  Vou 
etler  that  referred  to  the 
opes  that  I  couldn't  con- 

liow  Charles  Kvans  hail 
and  handed  them  to  hini 
(ii's  of  them  liad  been  for- 
leutta,  and  how  they  had 
er  they  should  have  done 
thought  lie  never  M'ould 
le  enemy  that  was  secretly 
)nsteniation  and  surprise 
the  necessity  that  existed 


A  L  h  K .{  X  E. 


357 


for  Blake's  confession,  in  onler  that   the  exposure  of 
certain  family  matters  should  be  avoided. 

And  then   very   (juietly,  without  saximr  a   „.ord     \V 
deanewent  up-stairs,  and  put  on  her  bonnet  and  sliawl 

•;"•'  ''''"■"  ^''<'  '■•■=' -'^'V"!,  Arthur  without  a  word  eo  - 

ducted  lier  to  a  carria-e  which  was  waitin.^  at  the  .loor 
and  accompanied  by  Mr.  Ashtun  they  proceeded  rapidu' 
toward  Loriiii^.  ' 

She  spoke  but  once  upon  the  way,  and  that  was  just 
l)f  are  the  carriage  stopped  before  the  prison  ,h  '  ^' I 
am  at  hb.-rty,  I  suppose,"  she  sai.l  then,  "  to  pron  se 
Blake  that  if  he  makes  a  free  conf.ssion,  no  pm-ecli  ..." 
will  be  taken  a.rai„st  him;  that  Mr.  .\evi.is  alou.  will  bo 
tried  for  this  ortense  ?" 

"C"ertaii.iy,",,nsweredMr.  Ashton  an.l  Arthur   simul- 
taneously; and   drawing  her  veil  doselv  ov.-r  I,,.,-  face 
A  deane  luHowcd  them  into  the  prison,  mid      n  minutes 
later  ioun.l  herself  alone  with  Richard  Blake. 

Xeed   I   say  how  long  and  difticult  h.-r  t!isk  i.roved 
how  determined  he  was,  that  if  fh,.,-,.  was  a  .Iis,.!osure  of' 
the  real  perp,.trators  of  the  crime,  there  should  bo  dis- 
elosures   .also   of  all   that   pre.-eded   ati.l   followed    that 
onme.     She  remaine.l  with  him  hours,  alternatelv  plead- 
ing with  and  threatening  him,  and  at  last  was  tViumph- 
ant.     She  did  what  all  .Mr.  Arendell's  lawyers,  what  Mr 
Arendell    hi,nself  had   failed   to    do.  she  "wrested   from 
Kchard  I>  ake  a  full  confession  of  the  genuineness  of  the 
letters,  and  the  minutest  p.articnlars  of  the  plot  which 
had  driven  \V  ilham  Arendeil  to  a  M-retched  exile,  ami  his 
young  wife  to  an  early  grave. 

A  week  later,  the  most  famous  trial  for  ,,erjurv  that 
had  ever  taken  place  in  the  State,  came  off.  The"  e^•idenc<^ 
w-as  perfect,  though  he  who  knew  more  than  any-Colonel 
Arendell-was  not  once  called  upon  the  stand,  and  Wil- 
liam Arendell  went  forth  from  the  court-house  cleared 
of  the  stain  which  had  rested  upon  him  for  more  than 


358 


ALDEANE. 


twenty  yi'fir«.  Ilichanl  Bljiki'  followod  h'>n,  howed  down 
with  sliame,  and  JonsH  N<'viiis  DaviH  roinainiMl  in  impo- 
toiit  fury  ill  the  sclt-s;inii'  jail  to  wliicli  lie  had  oiiee  ooii- 
Bigiieil  his  iiiiKiccnt  rival. 

The  exeitenieiit  that  ensued  upon  the  eoneliiMiou  ot' 
the  trial  was  almost  fritrhtCiil.  A  thousand  tricmlly 
hands  were  thrust  toward  William  Arendell,  and  as 
many  voices  ealled  his  name,  as,  overpowered  by  emotion, 
he  sank  upon  a  scat,  ami  whispered  his  brother's  name 
for  Colonel  iVrendell  was  there  —  there  on  his  knees 
before  the  brother  he  liadwrontjed — not, as  he  cried  with 
tears,  at  the  first,  not  at  the  lirst,  but  in  conccaliiii;  his 
innocence  when  his  dying  wife  had  declared  it  to  him. 

"My  God,  rise!  Do  you  not  see  all  these  people";:'" 
cried  William  Arendell,  drawinpf  back. 

"I  see  them  all !"  replietl  Colonel  Arendell.  "  IJefore 
them  all,  I  ])ray  yon  to  I'orgive  me." 

]Mr.  Arendell  looked  anxiously  into  the  tipturned  face. 
"  My  child  I  my  child  !"  he  said,  brokenly.  "  Have  you 
been  just  to  her." 

"  Ah,  brother,  I  fear  not  just !  not  just !  Yet,  for  years 
she  has  been  dear  to  me  as  my  own  daughter,"  was  the 
reply. 

"Let  old  differences  be  forgotten,  then,  as  they  are 
forgiven,"  said  Mr.  Arendell,  and  the  hands  of  the  two 
brothers  friet  in  the  warm  clasp  of  reconciliation. 

"  William  Arendell !  William  Arendell !"  sounded  on 
all  sides,  and  a  hundred  friendly  hands  were  extended 
toward  him. 

He  was  soon  replying  to  the  congratulations  and 
inquiries  of  numerous  citizens,  and  it  was  long  ere  he 
found  himself  outside  the  court-house  door.  A  carriage 
was  standing  there.  Colonel  vVrendell  opened  the  door, 
and  invited  his  brother  to  enter. 

He  extended  the  invitation  to  Mr.  Asliton,  Arthtir,  and 
Mr.  Evans;  but  those  gentlemen,  knowing  that  the  brothers 


III 
a\ 
a  I 

wl 
th 


do 


ha] 

act 

iie\ 

cut 

lier 

tioi 

kno 

win 

shr;i 

war 

knei 

hear 

the  1 

at  Ik 

fathf 

At 

then 

faniil 

to  hi 

speali 

"L 

but  f 

passic 

Xe, 

at  the 


llowc'il  li'm,  bow«'(l  down 
)iivis  roinaiiUMl  in  impo- 
whicli  lie  hinl  unco  con- 

upon  tlio  conclnsion  of 
A  tlioiiwand  tVicmlly 
lliiiin  Aron(l»'ll,  and  as 
)vi'rpowt'rod  by  finotion, 
'ihmI  liis  brotluM'"'*  name 
V  —  thcro  on  liis  knees 
kI — not,  us  lie  <ried  with 
■it,  but  in  concealiiiij:  liin 
ii<l  deelared  it  to  liiin. 
t  see  ail  these  people  ?" 

V)ael<. 

Linel  Arendell.     "  IJefore 
ne." 
1  into  the  tipt timed  faee, 

brokenly.     "  Have  you 

not  just !  Yet,  for  years 
own  daughter,"  was  the 

t>tten,  then,  as   they  are 
il  the  hands  of  the  two 
)f  reeoneiliation. 
Arendell !"  sounded  on 
y  hands  were  extended 

le  congratulations  and 
and  it  was  long  ere  ho 
house  door.  A  carriage 
rendell  opened  the  door, 

Mr.  Ashton,  Arthur,  and 
LHOwing  that  the  brothers 


A  LD  E  A  y  E. 


3511 


u,dd  preh.r  to  be  ah.ne,  declined,  promising..  howov..r  to 

r^ei:;;:.  :"'"'•  /^;  ;'->•■"—•-->■,"..  ■>•....;: 

."'I  uillM.g   hands   were  drawing  fl,..  eania-e  onw.id 
;^.lc^cnthusiastic  hurrahs    tbr   William  X^n^:^::ll 

"'I'o  (inissniere!"  shouted  a  voi<-e 

"Where  is  n.y  ehih!  r  cried  William  Arendell. 

»'■'"' » ^''-  ■'"■■"•>^><-' I.  ha ,,...„i;;„:„:X  ';■;,:' 


>.M,i,„i„,„  ti„.  ,1,1,  ,riii,,„„,  ,„„.  „„„„,,  ,„•     .  r 

ho  ho,,,,.,  calling  fo,  hi,  ,i,„,.,„„,  »,„  ,,;„,rr,w  " 

.,.  ho,  ,l„„,  .„,  „.„„,  ,,„„„,,  „„,  ^.^,,  ^.,^^^^^  .^..op 

At  first,  she  could  neither  see  nor  hoar  nnv  fJ.;,,  ,       j 

then  .10  ..d.,,,  .  ,,,,k-bean,ed  li.ce,\S  w  s  tS^"^ 
anuhar,  bending  over  her,  and  a  string  n.an  c la     i' Jh  .^ 

passion  of  tears,  and  dung  to  him  convnlsivelv 

^ced  we  say  how  the  next  hour  was  passed 'and  how 
at  the  end  of  that  time  her  father  led  her  \o  the  r"ms  h.- 


300 


ALU  i:  .\  yR. 


low,  iii.a  thcv  mrivva  t....'Hlu>r  tlu n.u'ratulalion.  .,1 

tiK'ir  aH.i.ml.K.l  iVun-N.  ^Ii^.  Aniul.U  .•..uM,  m.U'.-l,  >'.•»>■ 
1,„,  litilr,  for  si...  MTimd  .lu/AMl  l.y  xUv  nvcliiMons  -1  il,r 
,,nM  l.our;  an.l  nvIumi  Al.loaiu-  ^mtw  ralm.r,  hIu-  saw  tliul. 
1,11  tlH.  ntluT  facot.  woro  whit.',as  ifwitli  sm.u.-  suiiprrss.-.! 
,,„.,, i.m;  ami  sii-M.^nly  thr  trutl.  burst  upnu  h.T  ami  si,.- 
,.rU.,l,  "S..in.'tl.in.i,'l''>'^  hai.iM-iu-l  to  that  miHiTal.lo  man. 
What  is  it?     Oh,  tt-ll  me  what  V" 

Her  fath.r  irri'W  .Ira-Uv  I'alo,  as  ho  fcl...o.l  the  .,m-sti.jn, 
■iM.l  Vrtlu.r,  h.-ilatin-lv,  iv,.li.Ml:  "1  meant  not  to  have 
told  you,  Al.l.'ams  it    will  he  a  shock  to  y..ur  n.-utl.- 

Imai-t."  .... 

"  IK>  lias  kilU'd  himseU","  bhe  imirmiirc.l  laiiitly. 

"  Yt's  " 

"Mvtlo.l'"  cried  Mr.  Aroiidell,  "is  it  i)ossil.lL-  llu-y 
havo  lurn  so  caroloss,  that  they  left  him  for  a  niomi'nt 
alone  ?     How  did  ho  offoot  tho  dood  V" 

Arlhnr  drow  Mr.  Ann.loU  asi.lo,  that  Al.leano  n.P.'ht 
not  hoar  the  shoeki...4  l-arlicnlars,  an.l  thon  i.n.-lly  velato. 
then.  The  i.risonor,  with  a  small  penknito,  which  ho  had 
nvuia.rod  to  oonooul  ahont  his  i.erson,  had  ont  tho  voms 
of  his"wrists,  and  ha.l  hlo.l  to  death  in  a  fow  ininulcs- 
was  porfootlv  di-ad  when  disoovorod.  ^ 

An.l  80  tlie  doop-dvod  villain  was  pone-j;onc  m  this 
horrible  manner,  without  l.'.po,  without  ropontaueo  to 
moot  an  avenging  (iod.  William  Arondoll  shuddorod  as 
he  listened.  It  Avas  horriblo,  horriblo,  an.l  throw  deo]) 
..loom  upon  his  joy,  and  AMoane,  tho  one  he  had  wrongo.l 
as  doeply,  as  he  ha.l  ov^n  WiUiiun  Arondoll,  wept  wildly 
over  his  dreadful  late,  and  long  refused  to  bo  oomk.rted 
But  oalmor  thou.^hts  oamo  with  tho  evening,  the  blossod 
evoning  whioh  sho  Spoilt  at  her  father's  side,  in  the  midst 
of  the  reunited  family. 


h 

o, 

fi 

tl 


tl 
1 

01 

a  I 

si 
lo: 
W 
gl 
111; 
\vi 

llil 

in( 
wi 
all 
ov 
nu 
nil. 
..tl 


/••. 


■  ilic   conu'raluWil.oii'*  <il' 

iciidcll  cilllil,  ill(U'«'il,  >'!IV' 
1)V  till'  n'Vt'l:iti<)ii><  1(1' I  111' 
ri'w  I'liliiK  r,  slu'  H!i\v  lliat 

,  it'witll  Siillic  f<ll|ll»n ■^st•^l 
li  l)ui-st  (ipnii  hiT,  ruul  hIih 
I  to  thiit  miHi-nilili-  iniiii. 

IS  ho  cclioi'il  the  (jiu'^lioii, 
I :  "1  meant  not  to  have 
a  shock  to   your  gentle 

nurnmrctl  iMintly. 

U'U,  "i>*  it  ])ossil)h'  llicy 
y  h'ft  iiiiii  for  a  iiioiiu'iit^ 
ito.l  V" 

isiih',  that  Ahlcam-  i)ii;^'lit 
i-s,  and  tlH'M  l)rii'lly  iflati'il 
III!  penknitls  which  he  Iiad 
jicrHon,  liad  cnt  tlic  veins 
[oath  in  a  lew  minutes — 
crcd. 

was  gone — gone  in  this 
[>,  without  repentance,  to 
am  Arendell  shudilored  as 

horrible,  and  threw  deep 
le,  the  one  he  had  wronged 
am  Arendell,  wept  wildly 
t  refused  to  be  comforted. 
Uh  the  evening,  the  blessed 
r  father's  side,  in  the  midst 


CHAI'TKIt    WXVI. 

A    TAUI>V     i:.\l'I,.\NAlloV. 

Bi  T,  with  a  hr:irt  lil|,.,|  wiH,  ,.,,„llieting  emotions,  and 
lier  l.ram  pcrpi-'x...!  in  vain  endeavors  to  realiz.'  fully 
1"'|-  •;.•«•  j...siii,.n,  Aldeane  could  not  feel  perfecllvat 
•  ■ase  III  any  .society,  especially  that  of  her  newly-found 
lather;  but  not  until  a  late  hour  was  she  siitlbred  to  leave 
1  lieiii.     When  she  arosi-  to  ,vliiv,  Mr.  Kvans  placed  in  her 

liaiids  a  small  package,  saying: 

'•  -Miss  Areii.lell,  here  is  the  last  message  of  vour  more 
tlian  mother  to  her  adopted  .langiiter.  I  can  not  sav  tliat 
1  am  sorry  that  it  has  for  so  long  remained  iiidden  In  my 
custody,  as  it  would  doubtless  have  filled  your  heart  with 
anguish  to  have  read  of  your  father's  dreaVy  exile,  while, 
since  he  has  returned  to  you,  you  can  contemi.late'it  with 
less  sorrow,  and  with  none  of  the  dire  foreboding's  and 
wild  conjectures  that  would  then  have  tortured  yoi^  (Jod 
grant,"  he  .added,  in  a  lower  lone,  "that  all  your  days 

maybe  happy  as  this— but  mine "lie  looked  at  her 

wistfully  a  moment,  then  tiinie.l  siuTowfuUy  awav. 

With  her  gentle  eyes  sufnised  with  tears  Aldeano  left 
him,  and  ascended  to  her  own  apartment.  The  bright 
moonlight  was  streaming  through  the  litriuly  curtained 
windows,  flooding  it  Avnth  acalm  pearly  ligiit,that  touched 
all  things  as  if  with  the  hand  of  enchantment,  throwing 
over  all  a  magic  beauty.  The  solemn  whip-ijoor-wifl 
nionotonously  repeated  its  mournful  cry,  and  the  river's 
nigiit-loving  myriads  croaked  shrilly,  answering  each 
'>ther  from  bank  to  bank.     She  went  to  the  window  and 


» 


862 


ALDEANE. 


for  atiiui' contompliitiMl  the  r:iro  scene  cf  beauty  bcforo 
}u'i-.  The  iiioDii  hii'.l  risen  hiyh  in  tlie  lieavens  far  above 
the  surrouiiilinL'  forests  of  tall  pines,  U'aving  tlieni  darkly 
detined  against  the  eiear  exi)anse  of  sl^y.  A  fairy  kind 
of  sioi)ina;  fiehls  and  groves  and  wliite-wallcd  cottages 
sei'ined  bonnded  l)y  the  dark  impenetrable  frame-work. 
A  delicious  reverie  was  binding  its  silken  chains  around 
her,  but,  remembering  her  mother's  unread  e])istle,  she 
turned  with  a  sigh  from  the  enchanting  scene  before  her, 
and  lighting  her  lamp,  broke  the  seal  and  saw  traced  in  her 
mother's  well-known  characters  the  name  "  Aldeane  Guth- 
rie Arendell." 

Tears  filled  her  eyes  nt  thcsiglit  of  the  familiar  writing, 
and  blurred  the  sheet  slie  had  opened.  She  read  it  all. 
The  story  of  her  father's  exile,  her  mother's  death,  and 
of  the  ill-fated  marriage  of  her  adoi)ted  parent  with  Jo- 
nas Xevins,  whom,  too  late,  she  discovered  to  be  the  vile 
and  treacherous  Davis,  who  had  ruined  Arendell  and 
broken  tlie  heart  of  his  wife.  The  letter  closed  with  an 
earnest  appeal  to  Aldeane,  to  return  to  Colonel  Arendell, 
and,  if  possible,  to  obtain  from  him  at  least  a  part  of  lier 
tinjustly-kept  property. 

She  could  but  reflect  how  signally  Providence  had  led 
her  on,  placing  her  in  the  path  that  she  might  have  sought 
through  life  in  vain.  With  a  deep  sense  of  her  own 
Aveakness,  she  made  her  orisons  to  God,  and  lay  down 
not  to  sleep,  but  to  wander  in  the  labyrinthian  land  of 
reverie  till  morning,  theij  she  fell  asleep,  and  the  sun  was 
shining  brightly  when  she  awoke.  The  voices  of  the 
gentlemen  upon  the  piazza,  was  the  first  sound  that 
greeted  her,  as,  hastily  arising,  she  made  her  simple  toilet. 
She  stood  before  the  glass,  smoothing  back  her  dark,  lus- 
trous hair,  when  the  door  was  softly  opened,  and  Jessie's 
bright  face  peeped  in. 

"Dear  Miss  Aldeane!"  she  exclaimed,  coming  in  at 
her  invitation,  "  I  am  so  glad  you  are  up  !" 


scene  cf  beauty  bcforo 
tlic  hcavem,  lar  above 
's,  leavinn  them  darklv 
•  of  sky.  A  fairy  land 
wliite-walled  eottages 
[H'nel  rable  IVame-work. 
s  silken  chains  around 
.t's  unread  e])is(le,  she 
vntinff  scene  before  lier, 
■al  and  saw  traced  in  her 
e  name  "  Aldeane  Guth- 

of  tlie  familiar  writinii;, 
pencd.  She  read  it  all. 
ler  mother's  death,  and 
doj)ted  pai'cnt  with  Jo- 
liscovered  to  be  the  vile 
d  ruined  ArendcU  and 
e  letter  closed  with  an 
lu-n  to  Colonel  Arendell, 
im  at  least  a  part  of  her 

illy  Providence  had  led 
it  she  might  have  sought 
deep  sense  of  her  own 
to  God,  and  lay  down 
he  labyrinthian  land  of 
.  asleep,  and  the  sun  was 
ke.  The  voices  of  the 
18  the  first  sound  that 
e  made  her  simple  toilet, 
hing  l>ack  her  dark,  lus- 
iftly  opened,  and  Jessie's 

■xclaimed,  coming  in  at 
u  are  up  !" 


A  LDEAXf']. 


.'?«.] 


Aldejine  sat  down,  drawing  the  beautiful  child  nearer 
to  her,  .Jessie  hud  a  fragrant  store  of  blossoms  in  her  l^ip 
t  lien  i.,r  a  moment  regarding  her,  donbtfuUv  said  :—        ' 

'•  .Miss  Aldeane,  ina  told  me  that  you  are  my  cousin.    Is 
It  t  rue  .^    3Ia  never  does  tell  stories,  but  it  is  so  stran-o  '- 
It  is  perfectly  true,  my  dear  Jessie  !"  replied  Aldeane 
emiiracing  her.  ' 

"I  nevcT  even  knew  I  had  an  Crncle  William  until  last 
night ;  and  are  you  his  daughter  for  sure  ?"  she  returned, 
still  slightly  incredulous. 

Aldeane  laughe.l.  "Are  you  then  really  so  nnwiilin-r 
to  own  me  as  a  relative,  Jessie  ?"  '  '^ 

"Oil !  <lear  Miss  Aldeane,  you  know  I'm  n-.t,  I  love  vou 
l^etter  than  any  one  else  in  the  world  !"  cried  the  chUd 
impulsively.  ' 

"Ah  !"  she  continued,  sighing  as  she  glanced  at  their 
jnourmng  garments,  "how  delighted  sister  Leonore  would 
Jiave  ocen  ! 

"She  is  happier  in.  heaven,  dear  Jessie,  than  she  c'ould 
ever  have  been  on  earth  !"  replied  Aldeane,  her  eyes  fill- 
mg  with  tears.  ■' ' 

"Here    is    some    swamp   dogwood,"    said    Jessie    "I 
brought  to  you,  Miss  Aldeane,  because  she  used  to  love  it 
so  well,  she  used  to  say  that  the  fairies  had  taken  acorn- 
cups  and  colored  them  crimson  and  filled  them  with  corals 
b.r  ornaments  lor  the  water-spirits,  and  that  we  ought 
noc  to  rob  them  by  stringing  them  like  beads  to  wear  on 
om;  neeks.     I  planted  a  rose-bush  on  her  grave,  that  I 
split  0  1  the  very  one  that  this  came  from,"  she  went 
on  sadly,  sing  ing  out  a  white  rose-bud  from  the  Howers 
that  lay  in  Al.lcane's  lap,  "and  it  is  arrowing  finely.     I 
pnt  a  crimson  one  on  Mr.  Raymond's '.rrave  and  that  is 
growing,  too.     I  hope  that  they  will  get  so  lar-^e  that 
t.iey  will  mingle  together,  for  you  know  the>/  loved  each 
oilier  so." 

She  spoke  with  childlike  oaniestness,  gazing  pensively 


;5fi4 


.1  L 1)  i:a  :<  !■:. 


Tijioii  tiu'  tldwcrs.  "3Ia  told  me  to  ask  y(U,"  slu'  said  jit 
loniith,  "  to  love  me  and  her  as  you  have  always  done, 
and  not  to  hate  ])oor  ]>aj)a,  but  to  love  him  tor  all  our 
saUes,  chiefly  that  of  his  dead  daughter.  What  did  she 
mean,  ]\Iiss  Allie.  She  made  me  repeat  tlie  words  over 
ever  so  many  times?  What  has  ]>aj)a  done?  Please 
love  him  anyway;  he  is  always  so  very  sorrowful  now." 

Even  hatl  she  wished  to,  Aldeanc  co\dd  not  have  re- 
sisted the  innocent  ])lea(ler. 

"Sweet  little  Jessie,  I  love  you  all!"  she  exclaimed. 
"  Tell  mamma,  she  need  not  fear  that  I  shall  hate  your 
pajia.    I  love  him  very  nmeh  !'' 

"  I  bless  you  for  thi>  words !"  said  Mrs.  ^Vrendil!,  en- 
tering the  room.  "  Pardon  me,  my  love,  for  using  so  little 
ceremony  V 

Aldeanc  ol)served  that  her  face  was  pale,  and  bore 
traces  of  tears. 

"Dear  aunt,"  she  said,  kissing  lier  affectionately,  and 
leading  her  to  a  chair,  "did  you  think  I  could  ever  for- 
get you  ?  Indeed,  the  return  of  my  father  has  but 
strcnffthened  mv  love  for  vou  !  nothintr  can  ever  lessen 
it!" 

"  But,  my  dear,  it  is  so  shameful !  so  very  shameful !" 
nuirmurcd  JMrs.  Arendell,  burying  her  face,  like  a  griev- 
ing child,  in  Aldcane's  dress,  and  bursting  into  tears. 

Jessic^ooked  on  wonderingly ;  Aldeanc  motioned  her 
from  the  room,  and  ai)plied  herself  to  the  task  of  com- 
])osing  the  agitatetl  lady. . 

"  Dear  aunt,  I  do  not  blame  Uncle  John  so  very  much," 
she  said.  "  I  believe  he  was  blindly  influenced  by  evil 
counselors.  You  know  we  are  to  have  an  interview  to 
talk  it  all  over,  after  breakfast.  Xo  do\ibt  we  shall  dis- 
cover that  he  is  innocent  of  at  least  a  part  laid  to  his 
charge.  I  am  confident  he  would  not  M'illingly  defraud 
his  brother's  child." 

"  But  ho  has  withheld  your  property  for  so  long,  and 


hi 
a< 
tf: 

A 


tic 
th 
tic 

thi 
A) 


I-:. 

()  ask  yiai,"  sIr'  su'kI  at 
,'ou  have  always  dom-, 
3  lovo  liim  tbr  all  our 
iglitor.  Wiiat  did  she 
repeat  thi'  words  o\  rr 
s  ]>aj)a  done?  Please 
o  very  sorrowful  now." 
■ane  could  not  have  re- 

u  all !"  she  exclaimed, 
that  I  shall  hate  your 

said  Mrs.  Arendi'll,  eu- 
f  love,  for  using  so  little 

ce  was  pale,  and  bore 

her  affectionately,  and 
think  I  could  ever  for- 
)f  my  father  has  but 
othing  can  ever  lessen 

111 !  so  very  shameful !" 
J  her  face,  like  a  gricv- 
bursting  into  tears. 
Aldeane  motioned  her 
lelf  to  the  task  of  com- 

'le  John  so  very  much," 
iidly  influenced  by  evil 
o  have  an  interview  to 
Xo  doul)t  we  shall  dis- 
least  a  part  laid  to  his 
[  not  M'illingly  defrauil 

aperty  for  so  long,  and 


ALDEANE. 


305 


1- P    vou  as  agoverness  in  his  (a.niiy,  when  he  has  known, 
'■  ^'i  smce  you  have  been  with  us,  that  vou  were  his  niece 

0  recognized  you  immediately;  he  t,.ld  me  so  last 
n.ght.  \et,  although  he  earnestly  desirnl  to  .ive  vou 
your  pn.pert:^,  ^e  had  not  sufih-ient  moral  ..oura-^:  to 
Hufler  momentary  in..onvenience  hin.self,  bv  wi.h.lrawin- 

t  from  Ins  speculations,  many  of  which,  no  doubt    have 
-n.ed  out  to  be  worthless.     D.ar  chih  ,  I  h,,d  J^t     .e 
la.n...t  ulea  that  you  wer..  connected  with  tljL^L  ' 
you  shouM  not  have  been  so  wronged."  ^ ' 

"Let  us  say  no  more  about  it  now,"  returned  Aldeane 
"l"-obably  we  both  misunderstand  the  matter  "ShJ 
^vas  exeeedmgly  surprised  at  the  discoverv  that  Colonel 
A  endell  luul  recogni.e.l,  and  failed  to  owt.  her  as  hi 

read  ;.       '."       i"     T'-'  ^'"'   '''"•  '^••™'^^'"  '"'^'''t  ""t 
ea      he  thoughts  that  fiiLd  her  heart,  and  which  were 

legibly  stamjH.d  upon  lier  expressive  face 

The  breakfast  bell   rang;  .Mrs.  Arendell  rose  hastily 

saying,  entreatingly,  "  D.a,-  Ald..ane,  think  and  speak  it' 
nn  kindly.     TI.  would  not  have  act'ed  so  if  I  h       W, 

Ins  wife  m  those  days  of  sorrow  and  temptation." 

1  l<"ow  ,t;  I  know  it!"  replied  Aldeane,  "  there ' 
'nuTv  away  now!  Aunt  Koxy,  I  c-xpec.f,  is  already  n" 
^ony,  lest  her  first  installment  of  waffles  ^il,  .ool  be^.! 

tluT  reach  the   ips  of 'Mass'r  William  and  his  friends."' 

Ihey  descended  to  the  dining-room  together.     Coh  lel 

ArendeH    was    nervous   and  clistralt,  AVilliam    Arendell 

ousm  Aldeane"  good  morning,  with  every  demonstra- 
on  of  satisf^xetion,  and  informed  lier  that  he  was  ..oinl 
hat  day  w.th  rude  Adam  to  fetch  Frank  home  to  p  rt 
ticipate  in  the  general  l•eioicin<^  ^ 

Soon  after  breakfast,  Mr.  Ashton,  Mr.  Evans  and  Ar- 
thur  went  to  Lo ring,  and  Mr.  Arendell,  the  colonel,  and 
Aldeane  to  the  library.  ' 

She  seated  herself  at  the  window  and  the  two  o.,,,tlo- 


366 


ALDEANE. 


men  iicfir  the  ocntcr-table.  Silciu-k^  for  some  time  pro- 
vailed.  Aldoiuic  toyed  with  the  tassels  of  the  window- 
curtain,  Colonel  Areiidell  biisie'l  hitnselt'  in  arran<^iiitr 
nmneroiis  papers,  wliose  rattle  alone  broke  the  stillness, 
and  Mr.  ^Vrendell  looked  on,  ])atiently  waitin<»  for  his 
brother  to  open  the  conversation.  Tie  seemed  little  in- 
clined to  do  so,  but  after  the  papers  were  arran<!jed  to  his 
satisfaction,  conunenccd  pilin<:f  up  the  books  that  were 
scattered  around.  Aldeane  Avatched  his  nervous  move- 
ments for  some  time  with  quiet  amusement ;  her  father, 
slie  observed,  did  tlie  same,  but  at  last  lie  ren'tirkcd  : — 

"John,  we  came  here  to  talk  our  business  affairs  over. 
If  you  have  quite  finished  arrangini;  those  books,  we  w'U 
begin,  if  you  please." 

"Certainly,"  replied  th(  colonel,  sitting  down,  "I  was 
only  waiting  for  you  to  bcgii;  " 

"  And  I  for  you !"  returned  Mr.  Arendell,  laughing ; 
"but  now  to  business." 

The  gentlemen  wore  soon  deeply  engaged  in  an  anima- 
ted discussion  ;  carried  on,  liowever,  in  si  low  a  tone  that 
Aldeane  heard  but  little  of  it.  Half  liidden  in  the  dra- 
pery of  the  windovv,  shi,'  was  following  the  train  of  her 
own  thouglits,  and  ere  long  became  perfectly  oblivious 
of  the  presence  of  her  litther  and  inicle.  She  was  sud- 
denly aroused  by  an  exclamation  from  the  latter. 

"  William,  I  must  explain  this  matter  to  Aldeane ! 
loubtless  she  also  thinks  me  a  villain.  I  can  not  suffer 
that  impression  to  remain,  for  I  was  deluded  and  forced 
into  all  my  errors.  Lucinda  and  Blake  played  a  bold 
game,  only  too  successfully  !" 

Aldeane  emerged  from  the  tvindow  recess,  approached 
the  table,  and  said :  "  ll;icle  John,  please  tell  me  all 
about  it.  I  am  anxious  to  hear  all  the  explanations  you 
have  to  ofter.  I  am  sure  thei-e  were  some  extenuating 
circumstan(res." 

Colonel  Arendell  looked  at  lier  gratefidly.     Her  father 


h 
h 
h 

y 

ti 

f( 

n 
o 

f( 
ii 
h 

P 
h. 

k 

S, 

d: 

h( 
cl 

tl 

n( 
m 

AV 

lo 

m 
bt 
ix 
ev 
I) 
AV 
mi 
sp 
wi 
m( 


c  for  some  time  pro- 
isscls  of  the  window- 
liiinst'lf  ill  arraiigiiiif 
10  broke  the  stillness, 
ently  waitiiiij  for  his 
Tie  seeinetl  little  iii- 
were  arranjijed  to  his 
the  books  that  were 
mI  his  nervous  move- 
msement ;  her  father, 
ast  he  ren'arked  : — 
business  atfair?  over. 
'j;  those  Ijooks,  we  w'U 

sittina;  down,  "  I  was 

,  Arendell,  laughing ; 

engaged  in  an  aniina- 
,  in  si  low  a  tone  that 
ilf  hidden  in  the  dra- 
wing the  train  of  her 
le  perfectly  oblivious 
luicle.  She  was  sud- 
om  the  latter, 
matter  to  Aldeane ! 
aiii.  I  can  not  suiier 
i  deluded  and  forced 
Blake  played  a  bold 

)W  recess,  approached 
1,  please  tell  me  all 
the  explanations  you 
're  some  extenuating 

•atefuUv.     Her  father 


A  LDEANE. 


3G7 


handed  her  a  diair;  then  resuming  his  seat,  motioned  to 
his  brother  to  proceed;  and,  altera  moment's  reflection, 
he  began : — 

''  Ahleane,  to  you  I  addri'ss  7nyself,  seeking  to  clear 
your  mind  from  the  suspicions  which  I  know  are  rest  inn- 
there  concerning  me.  Vou  have  already  lu'ard,  that  be- 
fore your  father's  marriage  he  l)ecame  .leeply  iiide1)ted  to 
me.  This  was  chiefly  accomplished  through  the  influence 
of  my  wife,  T.uciuda.  Whenever  William  applied  to  me 
for  money,  she  would  advise  me  to  lend  it,  and,  indeed, 
insist  ujum  my  doing  so,  but  always  on  the  condition  that 
he  gave  me  good  security.  Thus,  in  time,  nearly  his  whole 
plantation  became  mortgaged  to  me.  After  lie  married 
he  became  more  frugal,  and  no  more  ajiplied  to  me  for 
loans.  Every  one  except  T.iicinda  loved  his  young  wife. 
She  also  pretended  to  William  and  the  ])ubfic  that  she 
did  so,  but  in  private  I  have  heard  her  inveigh  against 
her  in  the  bitteri'st  terms.  She  called  Alice'weak  and 
childish,  and  reiterated  again  and  again  her  displeasure 
that  William  liad  thrown  liimself  away  upon  such  a  mere 
nonentity.  I  never  could  discover  the  reason  of  her  ani- 
mosity, which  daily  seemed  to  increase,  until  yhe  hated, 
with  all  the  strength  of  her  nature,  the  inofiensive  and' 
lovely  young  wife. 

"  The  day  before  William  was  arrested,  she  reminded 
me  of  his  indebtedness  to  rae.  It  had  never  troubled  mc 
before,  for  I  never  looked  into  my  own  aflairs,  except  to 
examine  the  ])ooks  about  once  a  year.  JJiake  managed 
every  thing;  paid  out  money,  and  received  payments. 
I  had  never  heard  him  speak  of  receiving  any  funds  from 
William,  and  when  my  wife  called  the  matter  to  .ny 
mind,  and  also  that  he  had  lately  made  large  sums  by 
speculation,  I  felt  nmch  annoyed,  and  acceded  to  my 
wife's  desire  that  I  would  go  to  Grassmere  the  following 
morning  and  demand  payment. 

"Accordingly,  at  an  early  hour  I  ordercvl  my  horse  to 


868 


ALDEANE. 


ride  away.     T  saw  Hluko  staiidini^  near  tlio  cotton-gin  as 
I  ])assc(l.     I  sloj)|)C(l  to  sjuak  to  Iiini. 

"  '  \\\\\  WW  j^oiiiL;  to  (irassnuTc,  I  siijiposcV'  \w  said. 

"  I  dill  not  tliinli  lliis  a  strange  (lucstion,  nor  stop  to 
wonder  liow  he  should  y-iu  ss  so  accin'atcly,  when  I  wont 
to  other  ])la('es  a  dozen  liiiiis  ol'teiier  than  there  unce. 
Of  course,  1  had  started  too  early,  and  he  wan  stationed 
thereto  detain  me;  but  quite  inisusj)ecthig  his  motives, 
I  answered,  '  Yes.' 

"  Jle  looked  at  his  Avatcli.  'It  is  still  early,'  ho  said. 
'  I  should  bo  very  much  obliged  if  you  would  come  in 
and  look  at  the  cotton  that  was  packed  by  that  new  ma- 
chine last  fall.  Yon  have  not  soon  it.  I  shoulu  like  your 
opinion  as  to  whether  we  shall  employ  the  same  process 
this  year.' 

"  I  was  surprised  at  this  request,  for  he  seldom  consulted 
me  on  any  matter.  Nearly  all  tlie  cotton  had  been  sent 
away,  and  I  thought  if  lie  wished  to  liear  my  opinion  he 
should  have  asked  for  H  before.  However  I  said  nothing 
of  that,  but  re])lied  :  'Some  other  time  I  Avill  look  to  it, 
I  am  in  a  hurry  now.' 

"  lie  looked  disaj)pointed.  '  As  like  as  not  I  shall  not 
be  able  to  see  you  again  until  all  the  cotton  is  sent  otf,' 
he  answered. 

"  I  was,  in  reality,  in  no  great  liaste,  so  I  dismounted 
and  entered  the  gin.  Blake  detained  me  on  various  ])re- 
texts  for  over  an  hour.  As  I  was  about  to  mount  my 
Iiorse,  I  said : 

"'I  suppose  that  William  has  not  made  you  any  pay- 
ments on  those  debts,  IllakeV 

" He  did  not  answer  immediately,  and  T  repeated  my 
question,  turning  to  look  at  him.  lie  was  very  j)ale,  and 
seemed  struggling  for  l)reath. 

"'What  is  the  matter  V  I  exclaimed.  '  You  were  at 
Croydon's  last  night,  and  staid  too  late  I  suspect.  Dissi- 
pation does  not  agree  with  you  !' 


S 
^ 


m 
w 
]. 

w 

til 
o\ 
w 

y\ 

UI 

W 

as 

CO 


near  the  cotton-gin  as 

ni. 

[  sii|i|iosc' V  1k'  suid. 

(jiK'stion,  nor  stop  to 
L'unitoly,  wlicn  I  wont 
•niT  tliiin  tlu'io  once. 

and  lie  wan  stationed 
isj)oeting  his  motives, 

is  still  early,'  he  said, 
f  you  would  eonie  in 
eked  by  that  new  iiia- 
it.  I  slioulu  like  your 
ploy  the  same  process 

or  he  seldom  consulted 
cotton  liad  been  sent 
to  liear  my  opinion  he 
owever  I  said  nothing 
time  I  will  look  to  it, 

like  as  not  I  shall  not 
he  cotton  is  sent  otV,' 

aste,  so  I  dismounted 

.'d  me  on  various  ])re- 

about  to  mount  my 

)t  made  you  any  pay- 

{,  and  T  repeated  my 
le  was  very  Jjale,  and 

imed.  '  You  were  at 
late  I  suspect.     Dissi- 


A  IDEA  N  H. 


3(5!) 


"yriiat  is  true,'  he  replied.  And  I  rode  oil"  without 
awaiting  an  answer  to  my  <iu(sii()ii. 

"On  my  arrival  at  (hassnierc  I  found  every  thing  in 
the  greatest  eonlii>i()u.  ^^■illiam  under  arrest,  his'wifb 
msensibl,.,  and  the  servants  half-cra/ed  with  Iriirht. 

"During  my  ride  thither,  I  hail  been  ponderh.g  on  the 
matter,  and  could  not  but  think  it  stranue  that  William 
liad  not  hastened  to  discharge  his  liabilities  the  nu)nient 
he  was  ir,  a  position  to  do  so.  My  wile's  subtle  warnings 
and  insinu.'Mions  still  rang  in  my" ears,  and  by  the  tiiiu"l 
reached  Grassmere  my  annoyance  had  deepene.l  into  a 
passion  which  became  frenzy  when  I  discovered  the  state 
ot  allairs  which  existed  there. 

"I  need  not  speak  of  what  followed.  You  know  it  all. 
SulKce  it  to  say,  that  during  the  interview  that  I  had  with 
Wilham,  mutual  recriminations  took  the  place  of  sober 
nupury,  and  I  failed  to  discovi'r  that  he  had  paid  the 
greater  part  of  what  I  fancied  he  was  indebted  to  inc.  I 
left  him  in  anger,  never  for  a  moment  supposing  but  that 
he  was  guilty  of  the  crime  of  which  he  was  accusal,  for 
nideed  ajipearances  -were  entirely  against  him. 

"  You  know  how  he  was  tried  aiurfound  guiltj'.  Many, 
many  times  my  anger  was  dying  away  in  pity  for  him' 
when  It  would  l)e  revived  by  some  new  insinuation  from 
Lucmda  or  Richard  I  Make. 

"  The  ilay  had  arrived  when  the  first  part  of  the  sentence 
was  to  be  performed.  I  stayed  at  home,  almost  believing 
that  I  heard  the  sound  of  the  lash  that  was  to  brand  my 
own  brother  forever  with  infamv,  and  with  a  stain  that 
would  taint  the  entire  family.  HJakc  had  gone  to  Loring. 
]\ry  wife  seemed  in  a  most  amiable  mood',  and  spoke  (^f 
urging  Alice  to  make  her  home  Avith  us,  althouirh 
William  had  decidedly  opposed  it.  I  was  surprised,  and 
asked  her  what  had  induced  her  to  change  iier  oi,,.iioii 
concerning  ^Vlice. 
.    "She  replied  :  '  ITer  condition  demands  our  sympathy, 


370 


ALDEAXE. 


and  her  coiuluct  tluriiig  the  trial  Hhows  her    o  be  worthy 
of  it.' 

"  Just  as  she  eompleted  this  answer,  BUilie  ruslieil 
breathh'ssly  into  the  room,  exclaiming : — 

" 'He  has  escaj)ed !  lie  has  escajx'd  !' 

"  I  was  delighted.  As  i)ale  as  ileatii  my  wife  rose  from 
lier  seat. 

"'Escaped!  did  you  say?'  she  demanded  hoarsely. 
'  Where  is  the  sheriff?  Wity  are  they  not  ,.ursuing  him  ? 
My  (rod  !   do  they  intend  that  he  shall  go  froe  ?' 

'"They  arc  preparing  to  follow  him  now,  unswered 
Blake,  while  I  regarded  iier  with  the  most  intensi  aston- 
ishment. I  had  supposed  that  she  would  rejoice  with  me 
over  his  escape,  I  now  saw  her  beside  herself  with 
disaiipointed  revenge  and  hate.     I  reproved  her,  angrily. 

"  She  replied  in  tlie  most  bitter  terms,  declaring  that  she; 
cared  nothing  for  me ;  that  she  had  nnvrried  me  merely  for 
convenience;  that  she  had  loved  William  until  he  rejected 
all  her  overtures.  Then  her  affection  turned  to  hatred, 
which  burned  more  tiovcely  th.an  her  love  had  ever  done. 
That  she  had  sworn  to  be  avenged,  and  had  for  y(>ars 
been  plotting  his  ruin. 

"  I  was  astounded,  and  demanded  whether  she  had  had 
any  thing  to  do  with  the  robbery  for  which  he  was  con- 
demned. 

"  ])lake  laid  his  hand  on  her  arm,  and  said,  soothingly  : 
'  Pray  compose  yourself,  Lucinda.' 

"  His  words  seemed  to  recall  her  to  her  senses,  and  to 
the  importance  of  the  question  I  had  propounded,  and 
she  answered  steadily  : — 

" '  No,  I  knew  nothing  of  it  until  he  was  arrested.' 

"I  believed  her  Avords.  I  co.dd  not  think  my  wife, 
whom  I  liad  blindly  loved,  to  be  so  utterly  depraved  as 
she  really  was,  but  from  that  moment  I  lost  all  affection 
for  her.  I  blushed  for  my  name  when  I  reflected  that  s\h>. 
bore  it,    m  )re  deeply  than  I  did  whoa  I   believed  that. 


)W8  her  '  0  be  worthy 

iiswrr,  IMake    rushfil 

"■-?  :— 

il!' 

ith  my  wife  rose  from 

tleniuiuied  hoarsely, 
cy  not  (•ursuiiijj;  him  ? 
lall  go  iroe  V 

him  now,  unswered 
le  most  inteiisi  uston- 
s'oiilil  rejoiee  witli  me 

beside  herself  witl» 
reproved  her,  angrily, 
ins,  doelaring  that  she 
narried  mo,  merely  for 
lliam  until  he  rejeeted 
ion  turned  to  hatred, 
r  love  had  ever  done, 
d,  and  had  for  years 

whether  she  had  had 
for  which  he  was  eon- 

and  said,  soothingly : 

to  her  senses,  and  to 
lad  propounded,  and 

he  was  arrested.' 
1  not  think  my  wife, 
)  utterly  depraved  as 
ent  I  lost  all  aifection 
en  I  reflected  that  she 
vlien  I   believed  that. 


A  LD  HA  X  !■:. 


?>n 


William  ha.l  disgraced  it.  Without  aiK.tlur  wonl  I  left 
lier,  still  foaming  witli  rage,  an. I  went  to  Loring.  Tlu  iv 
I  found  the  sheritf  and  c()nstal)les  eiideavoriiigTo  form  a 
company  to  go  in  search  of  the  fiigilivc.  They  coiil.l  u<.t 
hut  few  volunteers,  as  \Villiani  had  always  been  a  liivorrte. 
I  called  the  sheritf  aside,  uiid  found  him  not  siiflicicntly 
iirm,  to  resist  my  solicitations  and  a  handsome  hril.e  to 
let  him  escape.  II(.  k^d  a  Hvv,-  men  into  the  ncighborin-' 
woods,  but  they  returned  at  night  without  the  prisoiu'i" 
and  the  search  was  never  renewed. 

"I  belic-ve  every  one  e.\cei)t  Lucinda  rejoiced  at  his 
escape.     A  few  days  afterward,  Al.i.ane,  V(>u  were  born, 
and  a  iW  hours  lateryour  motherdied.  Mrs.  (Juthrie  was 
there,  and  dcjared  her  intention  of  adopting  the  littk! 
orphan.  To  this  Lucin.la  decidedly  ..bjected,  biPt  I  lavorcd 
the j.lau,  as  I  knew  William's  ciiild'  would  receiv.^  hut 
indifferent  if  not  positively  cruel  usage  if  it  fell  into  her 
hands.     I  was  constituted  adminstrator  of  the  property, 
and  when    I   had  paid    the   i'i^yf,-  outstanding   debts,  n.."<l 
those  which  I  su;.posed  were  due  to  myself,  there  was  but 
a  very   small    portion    r-Miiaining    to    the    cliild.     This 
1  proposed  should  be  given  to  Mrs.  Guthrie's  care* for  the 
use  of  the  infant,  but  she  replied  indignantly  that  the  child 
of  Alice  Deane  should  never  touch  one  cent  of  the  money 
or   even  bear   the   name   of  Arendell.     She  repeatedly 
declared  that  Alice  had  told  her  that  William  liad  paid 
nearly  all  his  debts.     Blake  swore  to  the  contrary,  and  as 
no  receipts  could  be  produced,  I  of  course  believed  liini. 
Mrs.  Guthrie  took  the  child  and  departed  in  anger,  leav- 
ing her  little  property  with  me.     I  portioned  ort'  what  I 
supposed   belonged   to   her,   hoping  that   she  would  at. 
some  time  return  and  claim  it. 

"  No  unity  of  feeling  after  those  events  ever  existed 
between  my  wile  and  me.  I  well  knew  that  she  had 
n-jver  even  respected  me,  while  captivated  by  her  beauty 
I  had  adored  her.     I  feared  that  ere  long  I  should  liato 


8T2 


A  LDHANE. 


her.  Tliis  tVrliii!;  was  iiuTi'ascd  by  licr  tiratmont  of 
Junius.  I  :vt  ()tu>  tiiiH'  wmt  him  to  (Miissincrf,  but  slu! 
l);\.l  him  hroULcht  hjick  the  ui-xt  diiy.  I  luul  niudc  uj.  luy 
minil  (o  lii-iivc  in  r  aiiijur,  and  si'ud  hiiu  North,  wln'U  to 
my  joy  ho   rau  away,     I   I'oul.l  not   |.ri'vcnt  iiis   \w\\v^ 

advortiw.l,  for  I'.lalvc  and  r.ucimla  wiutf  to  U on  jiur- 

poHc  tn  .lo  it,  l)ut  I  couhl  and  di.l  prcvi-ut  any  Heareh 
l)ein<4  made  ibr  him. 

"A  li'W  months  after  tlie  eseape  of  Junius,  Leonore 
Avas  born.  1  so  nuuli  feared  tliat  the  eliild  would 
resemble  her  mother  that  1  eould  searcely  look  upon  her, 
but  when  L<uinda  died  leavintif  the  innoc»-nt  little  crea- 
ture entirely  to  my  eare,  I  found  her  all  my  fondest 
desires  eouid  paint.  I  took  her  to  my  heart,  and  she 
beeame  imbed,  a  i)art  of  my  life,  that  life  tiiat  went 
from  me  when  1  saw  her  laid  in  her  early  grave  !" 

Colonel  Arendell  paused  for  a  moment,  overcome  by 
emotion.  Aldeaiu''s  tears  fell  fast,  and  luT  father  thoujj;ht 
of  his  slave-l)orn  child  wliose  revent,'e  had  beiii  so  ter- 
riV>le:  eominjr  as  it  did,  even  alter  his  own  death, 
drawin;4  its  victim  down  to  the  grave  at  his  siile. 

Colonel  Arendell  strove  again  to  speak,  but  memories 
of  Leonore  tilled  his  heart,  and  prevented  utterance. 
After  waiting  a  \'v\\  moments,  ]Mr.  Arendell  took  his 
brother's  hand  and  said  : — 

"John,  I  sincerely  pity  you.  I  remember  my  own 
agony,  when  I  lost  my  good  name,  my  wife,  children,  and 
wealth,  and  can  well  conceive  what  your  feelhigs  must 
have  been  when  your  daughter  died.  This  subject  is 
very  painftd  to  you.  Let  us  speak  no  more  of  it.  Try 
now  to  tell  me  how  you  discovered  the  plot,  in  which 
you  had  been  unconsciously  made  a  prominent  actor." 

It  was  some  time  betbre  Colonel  Arendell  regained  his 
self-control,  but  he  said  at  last : — 

"I  must  again  go  back  to  the  period  of  Lucinda's 
death,  an  event  of  whic-h  I  caii  iiev(!r  speak  without  a 


a 
h 
b 
ti 
h 

hi 
h( 

tl 
v< 
n( 

d^ 

fj 

01, 

til 
sh 
sh 
mi 

de 
se( 
mc 

Avi 

thi 

hei 


Ity  luT  treatment  of 
()  (JriissniiTi',  Imt  she 
r.  1  liiul  luaile  up  my 
(1  liim  Nortli,  when  tt) 
lot    prevent  his    beintj 

rtcnf  toll on  jiur- 

tl  prevent  any  seareli 

)e  oi"  Junius,  Leoiiun- 
liat  the  ehihl  wouhl 
earcely  look  upon  her, 
le  innoci'ut  little  erea- 
(1  her  all  my  fondest 
to  my  lieart,  and  she 
e,  that  life  tiiat  went 
r  early  grave  !" 
moment,  overcome  by 
and  lu'r  father  thoui^ht 
ent;e  had  ln'iii  so  ter- 
after  his  own  death, 
iive  at  his  siile. 

0  speak,  hut  memories 
prevented   utterance. 

Ir.  Arendell   took  his 

I  remember  my  own 
,  my  wife,  eliildren,  and 
lat  your  feeliniis  must 
died.  This  subject  is 
ik  no  more  of  it.  Try 
'red  the  plot,  in  which 

a  prominent  actor." 

1  jVrendell  regained  his 

e    period  of  Lucinda's 
never  speak  without  a 


/(  L  Dh'AXJi. 


37;{ 


shudder.  I-V.rsome  fim.'  she  had  been  in  ill  Juiiltii,  and  in 
the  early  ]>:\vt  ..f  the  winlcr  she  touk  a  violent  cold,  whieli 
settled  upon  hi'r  luiejjs,  i.ioduciii.jf  hctnorrhaije  of  a  most 
.■il.irinihu'  <'liaracter.  It  was  nrresled,  init  it  was  plain 
that  it  miu;ht  return  anain  and  produce  instant  death. 
No  one  dared  to  tell  hw  of  it,  and  for  weeks  she  liuijered 
on,  deludini,'  herself  by  false  hopes  of  recovery.  (Jnidu- 
ally,  but  surely,  tlie  knowlediro  ,,f  her  dani/er  enlen-d 
her  mind.  She  endeavored  to  st<'el  lu-r  heart  ai,'ainst  it, 
but  in  spite  of  lier  inchunital.le  will  she  felt  that  it  was 
true,  and  acknowledged  to  herself  that  her  <lealh  was  at 
hand. 

"Mad  she  not  learned  it  gradually,  the  shock  might 
liave  killed  her.  As  it  was  it  threw  her  into  the  most 
horrililc  jiaroxysrns  of  despair. 

'"I  will  not;  can  not  die!'  she  would  evclaim,  and 
then  for  hours  remain  in  gloomy  silence,  then  in  a  shrill 
voice,  almost  a  shriek,  she  W(Uild  repeat,  '  I  can  not,  will 
not  die!' 

"  IJut  she  could  not  wresth'  with  her  desliny.  She  was 
<lying.  In  the  awfulness  of  despair  she  felt*  it.  In  my 
feebleiu'ss  I  tried  to  point  her  to  (iod,  but  a  belief  in 
one,  which  had  never  dwelt  in  her  heart,  could  not  at 
that  late  moment  bo  planted  there.  Still  unbelieving 
she  went  down  into  the  darkness  of  that  tomb,  which 
Hhe  fancied  woulil  hide  her  forever  from  life  or  judg- 
ment. 

"The  night  before  she  died  I  was  alone  with  her,  en- 
deavoring to  throw  some  light  upon  her  dark  soul,  for  to 
see  her  die  without  any  belief  in  (iod,  or  heaven,  was  to 
rac  the  most  intolerable  agony. 

" '  There  is  a  day  of  judgnuMit,'  I  said  at  last,  '  when, 
with  all  that  have  ever  lived,  we  shall  stand  before  the 
throne  of  God  to  hear  our  doom !' 

" '  I  do  not ;  T  will  not  believe  it !'  she  cried,  covering 
her  eyes  with  her  wasted  hands,  as  if  to  s!mt  out  S(jnie 


n7t 


A  LDEA  SK. 


liorrihlo  sp.'ota.'lc  '  SluiU  I  sir  Will'wim  tlii-rc,  crying  for 
vi'iiiii'iiucc  ?  iind  Alii-i'  ill  licr  sliroinl  to  npltniiil  iiu'V 
No!  no!  wIm'U  our  Ii.hIu'h  art"  laid  in  tlif  <j;ravc,  tlioy 
will  (Tumhlc  to  Ami  !     No  hiiirit  will   t-vir   reiiniiiiaU' 

tlu-in!' 

"  \Ur  words  coiitiriucd  my  jtrcvioiis  susjticions.  ' ^  on 
liad,  thfii,  Hoincthiii!:  to  do  with  William's  ruin  V  I  crii'd, 
'  Voii  wroii.t,'i'<l  him  foully.'  1  tooK  liold  of  lu-r  arm  iu 
mv  I'lirnt'Htnt'SH.  'IVll  mi"  what  you  havf  doiu — you  ar*- 
a  dyitis  woman— tell  mi'  bofort-  you  dio,  liow  far  you 
isinnVd,  ami  how  far  lit   was  jiuiliy!' 

"For  cvoii  thru  I  had  no  -at  a  but  that  William  had 
oonimitti'd  tho  i-rimo,  and  supi^isi'd  that  somo  doop  plot 
liad  hoiMi  lai<l  to  ti'inpt  him  to  do  it. 

"'What  do  you  nu'an  V  slu'  iniiuirud,  lookinji;  iit  mo 
with  the  savaiji'  tjlari'  of  a  tiger  at  bay.  '  Do  you  bidiovo 
that  I  ruined  himV 

"'Yes,  I  do.'  I  replied  firmly.  'You  will  soon  bo 
out  of  the  naeh  of  human  laws  and  human  jnd^'ment. 
Till  me,  I  entreat,  I  eominund  you,  all  that  you  know  of 
this  hunible  atVair.' 

"She  looked  at  me  fiereely  a  moment,  then  sank  back 
tipon  the  pillows,  ami  remained  with  her  eyes  closed  as 
if  striving  with  thoughts  of  the  most  bitter  deserip- 
tion.  At'^last  she  asked  me  to  lift  her  higher  npon  the 
pillows,  and  to  give  her  a  little  wine.  I  did  so,  and  she 
told  me  all.  Yes,  to  my  horror  and  mortifieation,  not 
only  that  William  was  pv'rfectly  innoeent  of  the  erime, 
of  whieh  he  was  believed  guilty,  l)Ut  also  that  he  had 
paid  into  Blake's  hands  nearly  the  whole  of  what  he  ha.l 
been  indebted  to  me,  and  that  the  property  of  whieh  I 
]ia<l  taken  j.ossession  as  my  right,  in  reality  belonged  to 
my  brother's  child,  who  hatl  been  thus  defrauded  of  her 
fortune.  Davis  and  she  had  concocted  the  plot,  and 
lilake,  who  well  knew  every  nook  and  corner  of  Grass- 
mere,  had  been  hired  to  ])lace  the  money  in  a  secret 


iHiiiin  tlii'vc,  cryiiifj  for 
niiiil  to  ii|iltriiUl  lilt"? 
id  in  tin-  liiiivi',  tlioy 
,  will   fvir   reaniiiiiitt) 

loiis  susi>icions.     '  You 

illijinrs  ruin  V  I  crii'il, 

)K  hold  of  h«T  arm  in 

>u  hiivt'  doni' — yon  iirr 

you  dii',  liow  far  you 

I' 

Itnl  that  William  had 

d  that  some  doop  plot 

it. 

Kpiired,  lookinji;  -it  mo 

bay.     '  Do  you  bi'liove 

r.  '  You  will  soon  bo 
and  human  jnd^'mcnt. 
I,  all  that  you  know  of 

omont,  then  sank  back 
itli  her  eyes  closed  as 
e  most  bitter  dcacrip- 
ft  her  hijjher  u})on  the 
ine.  I  did  so,  and  she 
and  mortifii'ation,  not 
innoeent  of  the  erinu', 
,  l)ut  also  that  he  had 
c  whole  of  what  he  had 
he  property  of  whieh  I 
,  in  reality  belonged  to 
I  thus  defrauded  of  her 
)ncoctetl  the  plot,  and 
k  and  corner  of  Grass- 
the  money  in  a  secret 


^<>J«>.. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


■-IM 
1^  IIIIIU 

!:  m 


—     6' 


1|M 

2.2 

1.8 


_L4    III  1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


"^ 


§ 


&?• 


i/i 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  canadien  de  microreproductions  historiques 


T 


1 
( 

s 
b 

V 

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A  LD  BAN'S. 


876 


place,  and  to  keep  silence  concerning  the  payments  that 
had  hoen  made  to  him. 

'•She  cave  me  all,  except  Avliat  she  had  given  to  lllake, 
of  the  sums  which  Willinin  liad  from  time  to  time  paid  in] 
but  during  tlie  whole  interview  she  expressed  not  om' 
woi-d  of  repentance.  Ilcr  approaching  death  seemed  to 
iill  her  mind  with  terror,  miaccompanied  by  any  other 
feeling,  and  as  she  went  down  to  the  grave,  her  hist 
words,  breathed  out  with  a  despairing  shriek,  were  :— 

" '  It  is  all  dark  !     There  is  darkness  here  forever !'  " 

Aldeane's  face  was  blanched  with  horror.  Colont-I 
Arendell  seemed  overpowered  by  those  painful  recollec- 
tions. He  arose  and  walked  slowly  up  and  down  tlie 
room,  but  returning  at  lf\8t  to  his  seat  near  the  tabic, 
continued  : — 

"  I  have  said  much  that  is  here  unnecessary.  I  have 
not  spoken  of  this  subject  before  ibr  years,  and  it  is  hard 
to  deny  myself  utterance  now,  but  I  will  pass  on  to  the 
question  you  asked  me  some  time  since.  '  IIow  I  recog- 
nized Aldeane.'  For  some  time  after  my  wife's  death, 
my  one  engrossing  thought  was  to  find  William's  chihl 
and  to  restore  her  property.  I  wrote  immediately  to  Mrs. 
(Tuthrie,  but  after  waiting  „ome  weeks,  and  receiving  no 
res])onse,  I  determined  to  endeavor  to  obtain  an  inter- 
view.    I  accordingly  went  to County,  and  to  my 

sorrow  and  surprise,  learned  that  she  had  gone  to  the 
North,  had  married  there,  and  for  a  long  time  had  not 
been  heard  from.  I  could  only  hear  tha't  she  had  oo,,,, 
Avith  the  intention  of  settling  in  the  State  of  Xew  York, 
and  that  it  was  probable  she  liad  avoided  all  intercoursJ 
with  hcT  family,  in  order  that  she  might  bring  up  her 
adopted  child  so  entirely  separated  from  her  friends,  tliat 
not  even  the  slightest  liint  which  might  lead  lier  to'  sup- 
pose she  was  not  her  own  daughter,  might  reach  her. 
"This  r  took  to  bo  a  reasonable  view  of  the  case,     r 


376 


ALDEANE. 


oau.cfl  llic  missinc  oiios  to  bo  a,lvortisc.1  t),ron<xhont  tho 
X..rtl.,  l.ut  without  anv  irsi.lt ;  an.l  at  last  I  (Utennincd 
to  ^o  myself  in  search  of  them.  I  went,  but  not  a  tra.'o 
<.f  n.em  eoul.l  1  fui.l.  Happily,  however,  I  beeau.e  ae- 
,,uaiut»Ml  with  my  vresent  wife,  aud  when  I  returned,  she 
Avas  with  me  to  i>;ladden  my  home. 

"After  some  years,  we  needed  a  troverness  for  our  eliil- 
dren      One  was'advertised  for,  and  Aldeane  came,  some- 
thin.^  in  her  voice  and  fa(!0  seemed  natural  to  me,  but  I 
had  not  at  first  the  slightest  idea  that  she  was  my  bro- 
ther's child.     I  discovered  it  on  our  return  from  church 
the  first  Sundav  she  was  with  us.     :SIy  first  imi.uls(>  was 
to  own  her  as  my  nice  and  restore  her  property  .mme- 
diatelv   but  a   moment's   consideration  deterred  me.      1 
had  b'een  speeulatinic  lar-ely;  much  of  the  property  was 
invested  in  su-ar  plantations  in  Louisiana,  and  I  con  d 
not  withdraw  it  without  seriously  embarras^m.-i  myseit. 
I  discovered  that  sho  was  perfectly  ignorant  ot  her  true 
position  in  life;  I  determined,  unless  in  the  event  ot  my 
death,  not  to  make  h.er  acquainted  with  it  for  a  tew  years 
at  least  I  annied,  that  as  I  should  take  care  ot  her,  an.l 
satisfy  everv-"  Avant,  the  withholding  of  her  property  tor 
a  time,  would  do  her  no  harm,  and  be  of  the  oreatest, 
beneiit  to  me;  besi.les,  my  wife  knew  nothing  ot  what 
had  taken  place,  and  I  was  anxious  that  she  should  not 
imtil  I  could  make   restoration  without  injury  or  meon- 
venience  to  myself,  and  consequently  to  her." 
AVilliam  Ar'endeirs  bro\V  darkened. 
"Th.'i-e  is  vour  error,"  he  said.     "  It  darkens  all  your 
previous  actii.ns.     The  fact  that  you  did  not  immediately 
own  my  daimhter  when  vou  recognized  lier,  would  lead 
one  to  supi)ose  that  your  motives  in  the  past  were  not  al- 
together pure !"  ,.    1    T 

Colonel  Areiidell  quailed  beneath  the  implied  distrust. 

"  Oh,  father,  uncle  is  excusable,"  crit'd  Aldeane.     "He 

could  not  have  given  up  my  property  immediately  witii- 


it 

ti 

si 
fe 

in 


R. 

vcrtiscd  t)iron'j;liout  tho 
11(1  at  liist  I  (Uti-rnnned 

I  went,  but  not  a  trace 

liowcviT,  I  bccainc  ac- 
11(1  when  I  ri'tui-iR'd,  she 
e. 

a  trovonu'ss  for  our  chil- 
11(1  AhU'aue  came,  st)ino- 
u'd  natural  to  nu',  but  I 
I  that  she  M'as  my  bro- 

our  return  from  cliurch 
.  My  lirst  ini|iulse  was 
tore  her  property  ininie- 
oratlon  deterred  me.  1 
ueh  of  tlie  jn-oiierty  was 

Louisiana,  and  I  could 
dy  embarrassiiijr  myself. 
;tly  ijiiiorant  of  her  true 
iless  in  the  event  of  my 
'd  with  it  for  a  few  years 
Id  take  care  of  her,  and 
Aiiisc  of  her  jiroperty  for 
,  and  be  of  the  j-reatest 
3  knew  nothing  of  -what 
ons  that  she  should  not 
without  injury  or  incon- 
ently  to  her." 
cencd. 
1.     "  It  darkens  all  your 

you  did  not  immediately 
■ognized  her,  would  lead 
>s  in  the  past  were  not  al- 

iMth  the  imjilied  distrust. 
If,"  crit'd  Aldeane.  "lie 
operty  immediately  with- 


ALD  i:a  XE. 


377 


out  dis..l„sin,^  oN.-ry  thi,,u^  his  wife's  perfidy  and  all,  to 
the  eyes  ot  the  world,  and  that,  I  am  sure,'w.nd(l  liave 
been  a  terrible  (rial  '" 

"He  was  wroii^.,"  replied  Mr.  Areiidell,  deei(U.(llv,  "lie 
might  al  least  have  reeognized  you  as  his  niece,  and  pri- 
vately and  gra.hially  restored   vour  proper! v.     But  to 
keep  yuu  m  liis  h(.„se  as  a  hireling,  when  half' tlie  moiiey 
be  used  w..,s  yom-s,   was  a  mo-t   shameful  ..roceedin.^' 
^ueh  con.b.et  can  not    be  e.vphiined  awav  l"     He  spoL" 
warn,  y,  bringing  his  hand  heavilv  down  'upon  the  table 
\  deane  felt  that  his  words  we're  true,  yet,  witli  all  his 
faults  she  h,ved  her  unel(>,  and  wished  above  all  tbi.K^s 
^iut  her  father  might  lH,.e(mH.  perfectly  reconciled  to  him. 
She  remained  silent,  not  wishing   by  word  or  deed  to 
AVKfen  the  breach  betwe.'ii  theni. 

Colonel  Arendell  spoke  first".  "I  know  this  matter 
<-an  n<,t  I)e  explained  away,"  he  said,  humbly.  "  Tlin,,,,-!, 
nil  my  hfe  have  l.-u-ked  force  of  character,  or  moral 
coupage.  r  did  not  know  Aldeane  then,  as  I  do  now,  or 
1  beheve  I  should  l,ave  summoned  n.s.dution  enon-h  to 
W  (.1(1  her  all;  aflerward  many  things  deterred  me 
Irom  (lonio-  so." 

William  Arendell  did  not  an  -•  but  looked  an-rlly 
and  gloomily  at  his  brother.  "^ 

Akleane  said,  seothingly :  "Let  ns  say  no  more  about 
It.  I  have  been  treated  as  a  relative  if  never  aeknowl- 
edgM  as  such.  I  never  ielt  myself  to  be  a  hireling  in 
tills  lioiise  I"  -^ 

_  "Perhaps  not,"  replied  Ikt  faflic.-,  "but  rou  was  con- 
Mdered  such  by  strangers.     John,  how  would  vou  liave 
ielt  It  your  daughter  had  suffered  such  liumiliati'on -" 
_       Do  n,>t  speak  of  my  daughf.  •,»  pleaded  the  colonel 
in  a  trembhn^g  voice.     "  God  knows  her  humiliation  was 
greater,  and  I  have  suffered  enouo-h  for  her'" 

"That  is  true,"  replied  Mr.  Anmdell,  compassionate! v, 
and  I  will  not  forget  that  my  son  was  the  cause  of  ^t 


- '>^ 


;>(■ 


ALDEANE. 


\^-x<  a  part  of  your  sorrow.  Tl.is  .nattor  shall  be  mon- 
timu'd  no  n.or;  between  us.  If  AMcano  l)oars  no  ani- 
mosity 1  an.  sure  I  haye  no  wish  to  do  so."  ^^ 

"  Indeed  I  hear  none,"  said  Aldeane,  earnestly.        -d  > 
dearest  wish  is  to  see  you  insej.aral.le  friends,  sueh  a> 
^  brothers  should  always  he.     I   pit^y  my  unele,  and  ean 

not  harbor  ill  feelin<j:s  toward  him." 

The  colonel  regarded  her  fjratefuUy.  Siie  U;aned  j^.r- 
ward,  and  sealed  her  forgiveness  with  a  kiss.  l>e 
friends,"  she  said,  "linn  friends,  that  in  heart  at  least, 
ran  never  acjain  be  separated  !" 

WiUiatn  Arendell  extended  his  hand  across  the  ta  )le ; 
it  was  eau-ht  eagerly  by  the  colonel,  and  Aldeane  beheld 
with  joy  the  true  reconciliation  of  the  long-estranged 
brothers. 


li 

t 
u 
b 
1) 

C! 

c; 
A 

st 
fr 
te 


to 
be 
nil 
m( 

CO 

at 
ba 


E. 


is  matter  shall  be  mon- 
•  Alilcami  l)oais  no  aiii- 
to  do  so." 

Idiano,  earnestly.  "  ^>Iy 
'l)aral)lo  friends,  surli  as 
pity  my  uncle,  and  can 
in."' 

tefuUy.  !^l»e  leaned  for- 
R'HS  with  a  kiss.  "  He 
<,  that  in  lieart  at  least, 

lis  hand  across  the  talile  ; 
lonel,  and  Aldeane  beheld 
n  of  the   long-estranged 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

FATIIEK    .NNT)    DAfciriTER    AT    HOME. 

An-i.  thus,  as  u  peacemaker,  the  life  of  Al.leane  Aren- 
dell  began,  and  lier  sojourn  at  Arendeli  House  e„de,l  for 
on  the  lollowmg  morning,  accompanied  by  his  brotl'ier's 
tannly,  Arthur,  Mr.  Ashton,  and  C"',ar!es  Evans,  William 
Aremle  1  went  to  (Jrassmere,  the  h.mie  from  whieli  ],e 
liad  «ed  more  than  twenty  years  ])efore     • 

Ot-  his  thoughts,  as  they  passed  oyer  the  well-remem- 
•ered  road  what  can  be  said  ?  Ah,  nothino- !  nothin-  ' 
though  each  heart  ean  fancy  the.n.  Shanr.,  grief,  an.l  U-{. 
"-npli,  all  were  there.  Shame  for  a  lif.  ^yhicIl  had  not 
bee,.  ,vi,hout  Its  stains;  shame  of  the  calunmy  whi.-h  h.ad 
bhghtedhnn;  grief  for  <hat  fair  young  c.-eature  that 
ca  umny  had  laid  in  an  early  graye,  and  triumph  oyer  that 
calumny  refuted- ;hat  shame  east  back  upon  its  author 
And  th(^-e  wa.  pity  too,  pity  ibr  the  suicide,  and  deepe; 
^tdl  for  liim  who  had  g,.,.e  forth  from  the  court-house  a 

terrdde  than  a  felon's  heaviest  chaiiis. 

He  satin  the  carriage,  silent  and  motionless,  seemin-v 
0  see  nothmg  but  his  daughter,  who  rode  on  horseback^ 
beside  the  carnage,  and  from  whom  he  could  not  for  a 
moment  remove  his  gaze.  Frank,  who  ha.l  been  su>n- 
moned  from  school,  and  who  had  greeted  Aldeane  as  his 
cousin  with  an  outburst  of  joy,  rode  beside  her,  lookin-v 
at  her  curiously  from  time  to  time,  as  if  she  had  in.lescrf-  ' 
bably  change,;    "nee  he  saw  her  last,  as  sh.  un  loubtediy 


380 


^  IDEA  .Vff. 


had  ill  sonic  piiiiits,  wliicli  wniiM  iint  li!i\  (  Ikmi  likely  to 
claim  till'  iittiiiticii  (.riicr  yi>uii;j,-  adiuinr. 

Alili'aiu'  had  iml  birii  tiiioii  tliis  road  since  she  liad 
nccoiiiliaiiied  (.Jcorgc  I'ayniond  and  i.eonoir  to  (Jvass- 
niere.  She  thoUL^ht  how  L'iiyly  they  had  sjied  over  it  with 
no  thouiiht  ol'tionhle  or  sorrow. 

KranU,  too,  w:.s  thinking  of  it,  for  he  mde  dose  to 
Aldeane's  side,  and  said  in  a  low  voice. — 

"  I  know  of  what  and  of  whom  you  are  thinking.  How 
little  we  thoaglit  that  the  uierrijst  of  tiie  part y  would 
botli,  ill  little  more  than  a  year,  he  lying  together  in  I.or- 
inu-  u'l-avevard  !  And  how  little  any  o'i  us  thought  that 
botii  were  so  nearly  related  to  you!" 

"(Jreat  changes  have  indeed  taken  place  since  then," 
she  aiiswcri'd,  musingly,  "in  all  save  (Jrassmere!  That 
remains  the  same  as  ever.  Kven  the  old  trun-iiet-vine 
arhor  si'eins  in  tlu'  same  state  of  tlecay  ;  no  nearer  its  final 
dissolution  than  liel'ore." 

They  wt  re  api/roaehing  Grassniere,  and  slu'  liad  ridden 
up  quite  close  to  the  carriage.  Her  father  heard  lu'r  last 
word.;;,  and  leaning  ouv  of  the  carriage,  gazed  earnestly 
U'lon  the  place  where  he  was  horn,  wliere  he  had  lived 
for  years,  from  which  he  had  heeii  driven  forth  in  dis- 
grace, and  to  which  his  lioirt  had  ever  turned  with  deep- 
est yearning  during  the  dreary  .lays  of  his  exile. 

"What  1"  he  said,  "then  the  old  i-.rbor  is  standing  yet  ? 
Yes,  and  the  lattice  over  which  Alice  trained  clematis 
and  roses  still  is  there,  but  she  is  gone  !" 

He  was  overconu'  by  painful  recollections,  and  leaning 
back  in  the  carriage,  said  no  mure  until  they  stopped  at 
liie  gate. 

Tiie  negroes,  with  Aunt  Samira  and  Uncle  Jack  at 
their  head,  were  arawn  up  in  gala  array  to  receive  them. 
Tt  reminded  Aldeane  strongly  of  the  iirst  time  she  went 
there.  Dut  little  then  did  they  know  that  they  were  wel- 
coming back  the  daughter  of  tluir  rightful  master  to  her 


I 


I  iiiit  liav(  licv  ii  likely  lo 
adininr. 

tills  loiui  since  slie  hud 

ami    I.eoiiore  to  (irass- 

ley  Ii;nl  sjied  over  it  with 

it,  for  he  mile  eloso  to 
i'  \ oiee  . — 

1  ymi  are  thiiikinL;.  Huw 
rit'st  lit"  tlie  i)arty  would 
be  lyiii.U  to^etlier  in  l.or- 
'  any  of  lis  thoniiht  that 
■oil  1 

i  taken  plaee  sinee  tlien," 
[  save  (Jrassinere!  That 
en  the  old  tnin.iiet-vine 
decay  ;  no  nearer  its  llnal 

;nh're,  and  she  liad  ridden 
Her  father  heard  her  last 
carriage,  gazed  earnestly 
l>orn,  where  he  had  lived 
heeii  driven  forth  in  dis- 
ul  ever  turned  with  deep- 
days  of  his  exile, 
uld  .•vrbor  is  standhig  yet  ? 
I'll  Alice  trained  clematis 
is  gone  1'' 

recollections,  and  leaning 
lure  until  they  stopped  at 

imira  and  Uncle  Jack  at 
;ala  array  to  receive  them, 
of  the  tirst  time  she  went 
■  know  that  they  were  wel- 
luir  riiihtful  master  to  her 


■  I  !.]>  i:a  X  /■• 


381 


birthplace;  but  thry  knew  it  now,  and  a  sh,.ut  rent  the 
■•"r  as  Mr.  Arendell  descended  (rom  the  ..arna-e  and 
trembling  with  emotion,  ie.l  Aldeane  into  the  mid'st  of 
the  servants  to  receive  with  him  their  noisv  welcm.. 

'•  15r.ss  ,h.  Lor.I!  .MassV  William,  I  jes'  "knowed  vouM 
com.,  ba.'k!"  said  Aunt  Samira,  fervent iv,  "  but  'twas  loo 
late  lor  de  p..or  boy,  mass',-!  too  late  (or  de  j,o..r  bov  •" 
••ni.l  bnrstmg  into  tears,  she  threw  iitr  apron  over  her 
head,  and  rushed  into  tlie  kitchen. 

Mr.  Arvndeli  seemed  much  discoiu-e-ted.  "  Voii  do 
not  utterly  despise  me,"  he  (,uer;..d  of  Aldeane,  iu  a  l<,w 
voice,  'Mvheii  I  tell  you  that  1  can  not  even  now  think  of 
that  child  withou:  the  deepest  emotion';"' 

"Oh,  no,"  said  AhU'ane.  "  1  loved  him  as  a  brother 
and  Ibtened  to  his  tale  with  all  a  sister's  tenderness' 
Little  did  we  think  that  the  liither  of  whom  he  spoke  so 
lovingly  Avas  mine  also!" 

^Ir,    Arendell    scarcely  heeded  lier  last  Avords,  s<.  en- 
grossed was  he  in  returning  tlie  ureeth,<rs  and  replyin-^ 
to  the  congratulations  of  liis  .servants.    ':\Iany  remahied 
tliat  had  served  him  personally;  and  their  children,  who 
•"ltd  wuhm  a  few  liour.s  had  not  known  that  such  a  man 
as  \V  ill.am  Arendell  ever  exi.te.l,  were  as  enthusiastic  as 
any  m  welcoming  him  back.      They  were  all  gatliere.l 
upon  the  front  lawn,  and  the  family  watche.l  with  great 
amusement  their  many  antics.     One  little  fellow  seemed 
striving  to  out-do  all  the  otiiers.     He  would  throw  him- 
sell  on  the  ground,  .-.nd  roll  oyc-r  and  over  on  the  soft 
grass,  laughing  the  real  "  yhe-ho  !"  of  a  i.iantation  ne<rn. 
at  every  turn,  and  the  next  ho  would  be  climbincr  like  a 
monkey  the  higliest  bran,  .es  of  a  tree,  in  order  to  excite 
the  admiration  of  his  master  and  mistress,  and  the  envy 
of  his  sooty  companions  by  his  feats  of  a.gility. 

Mr.  Areiul-ll,  accompanied  only  liy  Aldeane,  entereil 
the  house,  ano  assed  siowly  through  'die  wcU-remcm- 
b'jred  rooms. 


"H. 


382 


A  LDEA  SI-:. 


"Ah!"  Ih'  siiid,  wild)  tlicy  n-aduMl  tho  lil)niry,  "how 
many  liapi-y  'lays  I  liavi-  sjx  iil  in  this  moin !  Kvcn  in 
my  haciulor  ihiys,  ^^h^■Il  at  hoiiu',  it  was  my  lavoiitc 
n'sort ;  uiid  after  I  was  mariiiMl,  Alice  L'fiuialiy  used  t.. 
sit  ill  that  wiii'low,  with  her  basket  ofsewiin:  or  a  I'avor- 
iti.  luKik,  ami  1  love.l  it  IWr  iu  r  sake,  for  where  slu-  was, 
was  heaven  to  me.  I  thuik  I  see  lier  now,  sittiiij;  there 
ill  her  little  roekiiHj;-ehair,witli  her  iroMeii  curls  sweepini? 
Lack  from  her  fair  younji  face  t<>  the  ^'entiy  swayiiii,'  mo- 
tion (.f  the  rockers,  her  finaers  busily  en.<:a«,'e(l  with  some 
],ieee  of  delicate  work,  wiiilc  she  listi'iied  to  some  inter- 
estinii  l)Ook,  read  by  the  child  at  iier  feet.  Tliough  he 
was  a  slave,  she  a.lmired  his  beauty  and  his  stronjr  intel- 
lect as  much  as  if  he  had  been  of  noble  birth,  llow  often, 
with  unalloyed  hapinness,  I  looked  ui.on  them  when  tiius 
eiiLCa'^'ed  !     Ah  !  how  1  loved  them  both  !" 

Mr.  Aren<lell  sat  down,  eoverim:  his  face  Avitli  his 
hands,  as  if  he  would  fain  call  wy  a-xain  the  bi-autifid 
visiim;  bnt  he  was  unsuccessful.  Scenes  of  troublous 
times  jjlaneed  athwart  his  mind,  ami,  with  a  sigh,  he 
arose,  and  walked  into  the  inner  ajiartment. 

Aldeane  remembered  tliat  nniny  sorrowfvd  recollections 
must  be  connected  with  that  also,  so  she  refrained  from 

followinic  l'i'"i  ^"'t  **•■'*  •'"^^'"  "^"""  "'""  *'^  ^''^'  ^^i"^"^^'" 
to  await"  his  return,  (ilancintr  at  the  book-shelves,  she 
paw  the  plantation  record  which  (ieorjre  Itaymond  had 
opened,  and  from  which  he  had  read  the  record  of  his 
own  birth  and  that  of  jiis  cousin  and  playmate,  Abel. 
She  remembered  his  strange  questions,  and  the  agitation 
of  Aunt  Samira,  and  wondered  that  she  had  not  then 
suspected  that  he  knew  more  of  Grassmere  than  he  was 
willing  to  acknowledge. 

]Mrs.  Arendell  entered  the  library. 

"  1  see  your  father  is  in  his  old  room,"  she  said,  "  so  I 
thought  I  should  tind  you  here.  Come  up-stairs  with  me, 
I  want  to  show  vou  vour  own  chamber.     I  have  had  it 


V  /;. 

iicIkmI  the  library,  "how 
in  tliis  room  I  Kvcii  in 
[>nu',  it  wiiH  my  lavoiitc 
I,  Alicf  <rciuraliy  used  to 
sktt  ofj'i'wiiiii  or  IV  iiivor- 
Niiki',  lor  wliiic  slu'  was, 
vv  luM-  now,  siittiiij;  there 
icr  jroidi'n  ciirls  swcopin!^ 

0  thi-  j,'cntly  swiiyini:  mo- 
iMisily  i'nir!>:-f'''l  ^*'*''  Homo 
11'  listi'ni'il  to  some  intor- 

at  iicr  feet.  Tiiou.uli  hi; 
■auty  and  hin  Htronp  intcl- 
fnohlc  l)irth.  lIowol'ttMi, 
ivi'd  ujion  thorn  wlion  thuH 
lom  both  !" 

vorinu'  his  I'aco  with  his 
ill  u|i  aixain  tlio  hoautifid 
till.  Sooiics  of  troublous 
iiid,  and,  with  a  sigh,  lio 
•r  a]iartnu'nt. 

any  sorrowed  rooolloetions 
dso,  so  sho  rotVainod  I'rom 
near  one  of  tho  windows 
Lt  at  tho  book-nholvoH,  she 
ich  ticorpc  IJayniond  had 
id  road  the  rooord  of  his 
usin  and  ]>laymato,  Abol. 
uostions,  and  tho  agitation 
od  that  sho  liad  not  then 
of  Grassmerc  than  he  was 

brary. 

old  room,"  sho  said,  "  so  I 

■.     Como  up-stairs  Avith  mo, 

1  ohambor.     I  have  had  it 


^  r.n  E,[}fii:. 


888 


1 


Al.h.ano  arose  and  followed  hor.  Th..  r,.o„,  was  lar^e 
•""  airy  ||„.  lon^x  windows  were  o.irtain,.d  with  lae.. 
•I'.'Ky  and  y.llow  frun.  age.     The  furniture  was  very  o    . 

■  '1-1  hluo  .urtams  of  tho  be.i  gave  a  mela.u.hoiv  hu..  to 
.0  who..  Aldeane  thought  ..f  ...r  peasant  room  at 
A.en,  ..11  II.,,s,.  w,th  a  sigh.     Mrs.  Ar..„deil  notieed  it. 

1  h.s     sa„l  sho,  drawing  a  small  oushionod  ehair  from 
th..  window  reoess,  "was  y.Mir  m-.therV.     Those  ,lr,w 

».. led  exh.b.  eonsi.lerahle  talent.  I  ha.l  ,|....n  ,,!a,.e,l 
h  .  .oeause  I  thought  you  woul.l  bo  ,.le:.  d  to  Jo  that 
tliat  th.-y  have  lu-en  so  well  pivserve.l." 

Al.U.ane  looko.l  at  them  with  new  intoivst.  One  of 
the  ,.„.tures  was  a  represent  at  i„n  of  the  \-ir.iM,  a  .•om- 
-no"  sub,,o..,,  iH.t  the  look  of  oalm  snlferin.  and  rosi-Mia- 
tu."  on  this,  gave  it  a  strange  b.-amy.  Aldoane  thou-rht 
..her  mother  a,.,l  that  she  also,  in  the  days  of  her  tribu- 
l.'t.on   nught  have  worn  that  angelio  expression 

^^'1  tins   furnitun.  is  anoient,"  observed  Mrs.  Aren- 
;  .•  l.        A  great  deal  of  it,  John  says,  was  in  (he  house 
«l'^"  h.'  was  a  eh.1,1.     It  is  too  ol.l  an.l  dii.irv,  I  know 
jo  . suit  you,  an.l  I  will  send  some  for  your  use"  from  oni' 

"Pray,  don't  put  yourself  to  that  trouble,"  returned 
Al.leane  "  It  ,s  not  pn>bable  that  we  shall  ivmain  hero 
oug.  Indeed,  bnt  for  the  sake  of  '  a„I,l  !„„„  ,,.„^., 
father  would  not  stay  here  at  all.  This  ol.l  funiit^ure"  h.s 
a  eharm  lor  mo.  I  .ball  not  weary  of  it  for  the  short 
time  I  am  hero." 

"  What  .shall  wo  do  when  you  liavo  loft  us  entirely?" 
asked  Mrs.  Areiidoll,  with  a  sirrh. 

"Get   another   governess   fCr   the   <.hil,l,vM,"    replied 
Aldo.'uie,  laughing.  ^ 


384 


.1  J.  f>  r:.\  x I:' 


»»  Ml'  l.iil  that  will  tint  niiHWcr  tlio  pnri.osc,"  Mi-s. 
\,vn.l..ll  sMi.l,  sl.Mkin-  1..T  l.r;ul  >n.lly.  "Tlu-  loss  tn  ....■ 
„111  1,,.  .m-fi.t.T  than  to  tlu-  HiiMn....  Tlu-y  will  h..  m.-I 
,„  tlu.  iu'St  Hchools  tlu-  State  atVonlH,  ai.-l  will  i-roLalMy 

, civi.  as  !:."..l  iiistniclinii  as  y..u  can  irivc.     I'.ut  wli.iv 

hl.all  I  tiiid  aiiutlKT  siicli  iVii'ii.l  ?" 

"  Mtlioiifrh  I  cnn  n<.t  nniaiii  with  you,  I  nhall  always 
h..  vour  tViHMl,"  ivtun...!  Al.h'an..,  warmly.  "  U-t  thon- 
is  the  .linn.T-li.'ll."  'Hh'"  U'l.nu'i''.^'  at  Ii.t  wat.-li,  l-«'t 
Uf.  mi  .h.wii.     1  ha.l  11.)  i'h  a  it  was  so  lutf." 

Th.«  irnitl.'iii.'M  wciv  waiting  -n  the  i.ia/./a  upon  wlu.-l. 
the  ,li,iin..M-.HMn  o,..'!..'.!.  Mv-  Aniul.ll  t-uk  Al-hanr  s 
haii.l,  ami  lo<l  hor  into  the  apartment,  an-l  t..  the  l.ea.l  ul 

"'•  Vom*  mother  oeeiivic-l  this  plaoo  tho  last  time  I  ale 
in  this  house,"  he  sai.l  in  a  low  tone.  "Strive  to  .lo  iW 
honors  as  gracefully  as  she  used  to,  and  no  m..n'  .-an  he 

\hleani-  hlushingly  took  the  Boat,  mid  fuUille.l  her  du- 
ties, as  she  di.l  in  every  position,  with  the  modest  ease 
•iiid  "race  that  always  distinuuished  her. 

Aunt  Samira  had"  not  lorirotten  the  honors  due  from 
the  eulinarv  department.  An  excellent  dinner  was  serve.l 
iu  the  I'est 'style,  at  which  all  did  ample  justice.  It  was 
a  warm,  close  .lav,  and  after  dinner  all  sought  some  cool 
spot  in  which  to  spend  an  hour  in  rest  and  quietiu'ss. 
.Mr.  Arendi'U  went  to  the  trumpet-arhor,  ami  Arthur  and 
Ahhan*' to  the  lihrary.     . 

"  1  wonder  where  uncle  and  aunt,  and  all  the  others, 
are?"  said  the  latter. 

"The  ..(.ntlemen,  ]  believe,  are  gone  out  on  the  lawn 
to  have  a  (piiel  smoke  under  the  great  trees,"  returned 
Arthur.  "  I'olond  Arendell,  you  know,  is  an  inyeterate 
smoker,  and  Mr.  Asl.ton  is  not  far  behind  him." 

"Oh,  dear!  1  shall  be  very  glad  when  the  sun  sets;  it 
i«.  almost  as  warm  as  in  August  to-day,"  said  Aldeane, 


IN 


B( 


vcr  till'  piiriiiixc,"  Mrs. 
-ii.lly.  "Till'  l'>>s  '"  ""' 
Inn!  'riu-y  will  lu'  miH 
YnnU,  ami  will  iirnli.iMy 
\i  cim  ^rivc.     Uiit  wIk'It 

,-ith  you,  1  (*lii\ll  always 
ic,  wiinnly.  "  l>iit  ili*'<«' 
■iiii4  at  licr  wiili'li,  "  I-ot 
ns  8<i  late." 

Ill  Ilu'  jiin/./.i  ii]'<'ii  wliii'li 
\niiilrll  took  Alilcarif's 
iiu'iit,  ami  to  tilt'  lu'ail  dI' 

jilaco  tlif  last  time  1  ate 

;om'.     "Strive  to  ilo  lli»' 

to,  ami  no  mori'  can  ln' 

sent,  and  I'uHilU'tl  her  du- 
III,  with  tlic  modest  oast' 
shed  her. 

ten  the  lienors  due  from 
(•client  dinner  was  served 
id  aiujile  justice.  It  was 
mer  all  sonfjht  some  oool 
111-  ill  rest  and  iniietness. 
)et-arl)or,  and  Arthur  and 

aunt,  and  all  the  others, 

ire  gone  out  on  the  lawn 
the  great  trees,"  returned 
ou  know,  is  an  inveterate 
far  behind  him." 
;lad  when  the  sun  sets;  it 
1st  to-day,"  said  Aldeane, 


A  T.n  i:a  xh. 


nS5 


puM.in-.  l.nc-k  the  hair  from  her  l.row.  nn.l  pivin^r  «  hiri,e 
|.ahu-leai  t.„ ;  „  |.iie  Arthur,  as  he  sai.l,  prepared  to  try 
the  eoolinir  ,.rt-,riH  of  a  cifrar. 

"I  ha^.•  lell  my  ^nu'sts'io  entertain  themselves,"  said 
Aldeane,  "  l.ut  I  presume  they  will  enjoy  a  sies,:;  „„„,, 
more  than  my  company,  so  I'll  devote  a  few  minutes  to 
.vou.  It  ,s  the  Inst  opportunity  I  have  l.a.l  of  .loin-  ho 
stnce  yo„..  an'ival.     So  y,.u  are  really  jroinj.  oa  Mon- 

"  IlMppily,  yes,"  he  returned.     "  I  am  heartilv  fflad  of 
a  momh':'""'     '""'  ''""'  '"''''  ''"'"  ' '''  "'"-  ^''"" 

_    Ald..a„e  lau-hed.     "  V„„  ,u,,l  „ol  think  that  Belle  is 
uu'onsolal.le  ni  yo,,,-  al,,,,,,,,,     x„  ,,„„,„^  ,^,,,^,,,  ^.^_ 

turn  you  will  hi„|  t,,.r  as  l.ioomin!,'  as  ever'" 

"  I  hope  so,  iudc'd  !"  replie,!  Arthur.  "  I  thhik  I  see 
her  l.lue  eyes  expanding  with  astonishment,  as  thev 
Hurey  will,  when  I  shall  relaf  the  ,i,ood  fortune  that  has 
l>efal  ,.n  you.  I  am  truly  afraid  that  her  expressions  of 
won.ler  an.l  ,!eli,.ht  will  never  cease.  I  inl,,,,,!  ,„  s,,,- 
l.nse  h,.r  entnvly,  an.l  have  not  written  a  wor.l  to  her 
on  the  suhject." 

"Xor  have  I,"  returned  Al.leane.     "I  J.avc  been  «o 

'HU'h  en^agcl  an.l  so  airitate.l,  that  I  have  not  I.e.'n  able 

to.     I  will  write  to-ni,i,ht,  howev.'r,  ati.l  ••onstitute  you 

my  rna.l-.;arru.r.    Of  eourse  you  will  all  remain  at  (Jrass- 

mere  untd  you  leave  for  the  North  " 

"Certainly!     In  fact,  Mr.  Ashion   scarcely  likes  to 
return  North  at  all  without  Uncle  William.     By  the  by 
has  he  told  you  his  secret  r  ^' 

"  Who  ?  Mr.  Ashton  r' 

"Yes.    But  I  see  he  has  not.    Let  me  tell  you,  then  he 
i.s  al)out  to  be  married."  ' 

"  To  be  married  !     Is  it  possible  ?    AVho  to  '•-" 
"The  mother  of  (icwtie  and  Nettie  liemsen,'  your  ol.l 
schoolmates.     Nettie,  you  know,  is  married,  and  (J.Ttie 
17 


386 


A  LDEA  NE. 


Avoll  cared  for,  so  ho  incurs  no  cncumbrancrs  in  marryino; 

the  widow." 

"  I  like  the  lady  very  much  ;  l)ut  what  does  l.elle  say 

to  it?" 

"  She  Is  very  much  pleased.  Indeed  I  even  accuse  her 
of  projecting  the  match.  Certain  it  is,  tliat  at  all  the 
little  dinner-parties  given  at  our  house,  Mrs.  llerasen 
was  sure  to  bo  hivif  d  and  placed  near  Mr.  Ashton.  He 
will  not  leave  liose  Cottage  and  come  to  live  with  us, 
and  I  suppose  he  thinks,  as  we  do,  that  he  will  be  much 
Irappior  with  a  cood  wife  than  he  is  at  present  with  a 
cross  tliough  liiithful  liousekeeper.  Though  I  presume 
Mrs.  Koi»erts  will  still  bo  retained  in  the  house,  tor  she 
has  held  sway  there  during  the  many  years  of  his  long 
widowerhood." 

« I  am  a-uly  glad  he  has  decided  to  marry,"  said  Al- 
deai.  "  I  urged  him  to,  before  I  left  the  North  the  last 
time.  He  laugliingly  paid  he  would  try  to  make  a  choice, 
and  it  seems  lie  has  succeeded.  When  is  the  happy  event 
to  take  place?" 

"  Immediately  after  our  return.  Mrs.  Remsen  is  re- 
nowned as  a  liood  housekeeper,  and  when  yo  >  come 
North,  he  will  no  doubt  welcome  you  in  a  more  elegant 
style  than  usual.  I  may  be  able^^to  do  so  also,  as  ray 
enemy  can  do  me  no  further  harm." 

"  I  hope,  indeed,  that  you  will  prosper  now,"  said  Al- 
deane.  "  What  a  vindictive  spirit  Davis  must  have  pos- 
sessed to  persecute  you  sq,  for  the  mere  reason  that  he 
had  conceived  a  dislike  for  you," 

"  He  believed  that  I  knew  his  secret,"  returned  Arthur, 
"  in  which  supposition  he  was  perfectly  correct,  but  it  was 
harmless  in  my  hands.  INIotiier  never  told  me  the  name 
of  the  m-in  he  had  so  deeply  injured,  and,  beyond  her  sim- 
ple assertion,  I  liad  no  proof  of  the  truth  of  her  words. 
But  there  is  an  end  and  a  punishment  for  all  wickedness. 
To  him  it  has  come,  and  Illake  is  still  insane.     The  pliy- 


E. 


iumbrancrs  in  marryino; 

ut  what  does  Belle  say 

mleotl  I  even  accuse  her 
lin  it  is,  tliat  at  all  the 
11-  house,  Mrs.  llerasen 
1  near  Mr.  Ashton.  He 
1  conic  to  live  witli  us, 
lo,  that  he  will  be  much 
lie  is  at  present  with  a 
,er.  Thoui^h  I  presume 
?fl  in  the  iiouse,  for  she 
(  many  years  of  his  long 

ded  to  marry,"  said  Al- 
I  I  left  the  North  the  last 
uld  try  to  make  a  choice, 
When  is  the  happy  event 

rn.  Mrs.  Rcmsen  is  re- 
■r,  and  when  yu  »  come 
ic  you  in  a  more  elegant 
jlc  to  do  so  also,  as  ray 
m." 

1  prosper  now,"  said  Al- 
irit  Davis  must  have  pos- 
the  mere  reas^iu  that  he 

secret,"  returned  Arthur, 
■rfeotly  correct,  but  it  Avas 
r  never  told  me  the  name 
Lired,  and,  beyond  her  sim- 
f  the  truth  of  her  words, 
ihment  for  all  wickedness. 
•  is  still  insane.     The  pliy- 


ALDEANE. 


387 


sieians  say  there  is  but  little  hope  that  he  will  recover 
JIis  sister  liiis  decided  to  sejid   him  to  the  asvhim   for 
although  lu.  li.ns  nev^-  yet  shown  svniptoms  of  ■vioic'ncr 
slie  IS  ni  constant  k-Av  tliat  lie  will." 

"He  lias  ahvavs  looked  as  if  he  suffered  remorse,"  said 
Aldeane,  •' ;md  I  do  not  now  wonder  at  i(,  when  I  con- 
sider the  horrible  plot  in  wliieh  lie  took  sucli  a:>  active 
part." 

"What  I  wonder  at  most,"  replie.l  Artliur,  "  is  his  im- 

pertuieiice  ni  ever  a.ldressing  you,  or  indeed,  any  other 

ady.     I  am  m  hopes,  my  dear,"  he  continue.!,  "that  you 

have  at  last  derided  to  settle  near  Hoston.     I  know  that 

your  father  has,  but  that  has  little  to  do  with  you." 

The  crimson  blood  rushed  to  Aldeane'?,  faec." 

"  Evans  is  a  good  man,  a  true  friend,  and  he  loves  you 
devotedly!"  continued  Arthur. 

Aldeano  rose  hastily,  the  color  had  all  receded  from 
her  fa(,-e.  ."Don't  speak  of  it!"  she  said,  entreatingly. 
"  Tliat  can  never  he ;  1  Iionor  and  estee-.i  iiini,  but  no 
more !" 

Arthur  felt  that  she  still  loved  another,  and  altliough 
he  had  set  his  heart  upon  her  union  with  Charles  Evans 
said  no  more  about  it,  but  adroitly  changed  the  subject!' 

The  breath  of  evening  swept  through"  the  branches  of 
the  trees,  and  moved  th"  window-curtains,  refreshing  all 
things  by  its  coolness,  when  they  left  the  library.  Aldeane 
went  into  the  parlor,  where  she  tbund  Jessie  crying 
bitterly  because  her  mother  had  tohl  her  that  it  wa" 
neai-ly  time  for  her  to  return  home,  and  that  she  must 
leave  Aldeane. 

"  I  want  you  to  go  back  with  us,"  she  sobbed ;  "  it  will 
be  so  lonely  without  you,  with  no  one  but  i)ai)a  and  ma  to 
speak  to ;  for  you  know  Eddie  is  going  back  to  sehool 
vvith  Frank." 

Mrs.  Areiidell  entered  the  room,  and  said,  "Come,  Jessie, 
dear,  tea  is  ready :  and  we  must  start  innnedia«c!y  after  it! 


'"■"■^i. 


388 


ALDEANE. 


We  shall  have;  such  a  nice  ride  home  in  the  beautiful 
moonlis^ht.  You  like  that  so  much  you  know.  Come,  don't 
crv  Co''uBin  Allie  will  come  to  see  us  very  oi'ti'u,  no  doubt." 
'"Of  course  I  shall !"  said  Aideane.  "  liut,  aunt,  why 
can't  you  let  Jessie  stay  with  me?  You  will  be  busy 
VrenariuiT  the  boys  for  school,  and  will  not  need  her 
company  half  as  much  as  I  shall.  Besides,  you  wdl  not 
be  able  to  send  her  to  school  yet,  and  she  will  lose  so 
much  if  you  allow  her  to  stay  at  home  doinji  nothmg,  it 
Bhe  is  lu'i-e  1  can  still  superintend  her  studies."  ^ 

"You  are  still  aa  kind  and  thoughtful  as  ever,'  re- 
turned Mrs.  Arendell;  while,  springing  up,  Jessie  threw 
her  arms  around  her  mother's  neck,  ,  xclaiming:— 

"  Oil,  may  I  stay  ?  Please,  let  me  stay  !  I  won't  be  a 
bit  of  trouble,  and  will  study  ever  so  hard !" 

"  But,  Aideane,  she  will  be  liomesick,  and  be  so  much 
trouble  to  you." 

"  Indeed,  mamma,  I  wi!'  not."  ^^ 

"  I  do  not  fear  that  she  will  trouble  me  in  the  least, 
said  Aideane,  smiling.     "  I  promise  to  send  her  home  as 
-   soon  as  she  manifests  any  symi)toms  of  it.     And   now, 
aunt,  grant  me  one  favor.     Send  up  Jessie's  trunk,  and 
let  her  stay  Avith  me." 
"Please,  mother,  do."' 

"  I  can  not  withstand  you  both.  You  know  my  weak- 
ness !"  returned  Mrs.  Arendell,  laughing,  kissing  first  the 
blooming  face  of  her  daughter,  and  then  the  no  less 
happy  one  of  Aideane.  . 

Jessie's  tears  all  vanishbd,  and  smiles  usurped  their 
place.  Yet  when,  an  hour  afterward,  she  saw  her  father, 
mother,  and  brothers,  depart,  she  felt  almost  like  joining 
them.  But  Arthur  challenged  her  to  a  race  over  the 
lawn,  and  she  was  soon  leading  him,  at  his  quickest  pace 
around  the  shrubbery,  through  whicli  she  nimbly  ran, 
unheeding  her  pursuer's  darts  an.l  turns  to  capture  her, 
as  she  well  knew  he  had  but  a  slight  chance  of  doing  it. 


A  L  I)  HA  XL'. 


lome  in   the  beautiful 
oil  know.   Come,  don't 
very  often,  no  doubt." 
mo.     "  Hut,  aunt,  -why 
)?     You  will  he  busy 
ml  will   not  need  her 
Besides,  you  will  not 
t,  and  she  will  lose  so 
lome  doinji  nothing,  if 
ler  stuilies." 
loughtful  as  ever,"  rc- 
iiring  up,  Jessie  threw 
c,  1  velaiming : — 
ne  stay  !     I  won't  be  a 
■  so  hard !" 
lesiek,  and  be  so  much 


)uble  me  in  the  least," 

*e  to  send  her  home  as 

oms  of  it.     And   now, 

up  Jessie's  trunk,  and 


.     You  know  my  wcak- 

iiqhing,  kissing  first  the 

and    then  the    no  less 

d  smiles  usurped  their 
■ard,  she  saw  her  futher, 
!  felt  almost  like  joining 
her  to  a  race  over  the 
im,  at  his  quickest  pace 
whidi  she  nimbly  ran, 
id  turns  to  capture  her, 
ight  chance  of  doing  it. 


38i) 


Mr.  Arondell  and  Mr.  Ashton,  tlirou-h  wreaths  of 
cigar   smoke,  watched    the  race  from  tlie    front   piazza. 

Aldi'ane  turned  toward  them  saying  : 

"Tliat  reminds  me  of  the  fiVst'dav  I  ever  spent  at 
lloso  Cottage,  wlien  Arthur,  iJdle,  and  I,  ran  across  the 
meadow  and  canu-  upon  a  snake.  Oh  !  how  Mrs.  Roberts 
scolded  us  for  bringing  it  home  !  And  tluit  was  not  the 
last  scolding  we  received  from  hor,  eiliier." 

"  DoubtU-ss  you  deserved  tlieni  all !"  returned  .Mr. 
AshtoM  gayiy.  "  I  don't  know  what  would  have  become 
of  you,  if  you  had  not  had  iier  to  correct  you  in  my  ab- 
sence.    She  is  even  now  invaluable." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,  l,ut"— and  Aldeani'  hioked  at  him 
archly—"  I  hear  that  you  are  going  to  place  another  lady 
at  the  head  of  your  household." 

Mr.  Ashton  laughed,  to  cover  his  momentary  em- 
barrassment. "  I  am  sure  Arthur  has  mistaken  liis  vo- 
cation," he  said  at  last.  "  Ifo  would  make  an  excellent 
town-crur.  lie  would  tell  every  one  every  thin<r  with- 
out being  paiil  for  it.  ^  'lie,  I  tried  to  get  you  for"a  long 
time,  but  at  last  gave  it  up  in  despair?  Of  course  you 
know  who  the  lady  is?" 

"  Yes,  and  1  sincerely  congratulate  you  on  your  excel- 
lent dioice." 

"If  I  could  only  get  (^liarley  to  take  Oertie,"  said  Mr. 
Ashton,  laughing,  and  glancing  at  3Ir.  Evans,  "  I  should 
be  perfectly  happy.  I  am  certain  in  my  own  mind  that 
she  hkes  him,  and  slie  would  make  him  an  excellent 
wife." 

Mr.  Evans  made  no  reply,  but  taking  the  cigar  from 
his  mouth,  blew  away  the  smoke,  and  leaning  liis  arm  on 
the  balustrade,  looked  earnestly  at  Aldeane,  as  if  waitiiuv 
for  lier  to  speak.  '^ 

She  caught  liis  glance  fixed  so  eagerly  upon  Iier.  For 
a  moment  slie  hesitated,  and  tlien  said,  steadily  :  "  I  tliink 
aa   you  do,  Mr.  Ashton.      Mr.  Evans  would  insure  his 


3!)0 


ALU  EA  YAV 


happiness  by  marrvini?  Gertie,  provided  sh  -  l.n-es  liim. 
I  should  be  deliglited  to  hear  ot"  the  event  having  taken 

"It  may  bi'tbre  any  of  you  suspect,"  said  Mr.  li^vans, 
risinf  tossing  his  cigar  among  the  bush.'S  and  hastdy 
passing  out  to  the  lawn.  "  You  have  sealed  my  destiny 
forever,  now !"  he  whispered  to  Aldeane,  as   he  passed 

""To  tell  the  truth,"  said  Mr.  Ashton,  "  I  was  in  hopes 
that  vou  and  Kvans  would  lancvcach  other;  but  1  always 
was  a  poor  match-maker,  and  I  suppose  all  my  best-laid 
plans  must  fail.  Oh,  the  perversity  of  human  nature, 
especially  when  there's  a  wo-nan  in  the  case  !" 

"  Allit',  my  child !"   said  .^Ir.  Arendell,  "  now  that  I 
have  found  you,  every  one  seems  anxious  to  separate  us 

again."  ,.   i  ,     • 

"  But  I  shall  not  leave  you,  father !"  she  replied,  laymg 

her  hand  hi  his. 

Mr.  Ashton  laughed.  "  I'll  wager  you  a  set  ot  silver 
spoons  that  you  are  oft"  in  less  than  twelve  months." 

"  I  take  up  the  wager !"  cried  Aldeane,  gayly. 

"  And  if  you  lose,  what  then?"  asked  her  opponent. 

"  I  will  help  your  wife  to  correct  you,"  returned  Al- 
deane, "you  need  discipline  now,  very  badly." 

"That  is  true,  Aldeane,"  said  Arthur,  coming  toward 
thorn  with  Jessie  screaming  and  struggling  in  his  arms, 
yet  carrying  her  as  easily  as  if  she  had  been  an  infaut, 
and,  as  he  told  her,  "still  as  a  mouse." 

"Uncle  William  make  Mr.  Guthrie  put  me  down! 
Please  take  me  away  from  him !"  cried  Jessie. 

"  Arthur,  I'm  ashamed  of  you  !  you're  a  pretty  fellow 
to  detain  a  ladv  against  her  will!"  replied  Mr.  Arendell, 
lifting  her  froin  her  high  perch.  "  Where  did  he  catch 
you,  Jessie  V" 

"  Out  by  that  old  trumpet-vine  arbor  you  all  pretend 
to  like  sn  much,  while  I  thuik  it  is  the  dreariest  place  on 


vidcd  sh  -  Idvi's  liim. 
e  event  having  taken 

ect,"  said  Mr.  Evans, 
le  bushes  and  hastily 
Lve  sealed  iny  destiny 
Vldeane,  as  he  passed 

hton,  "  T  was  in  hopes 
eh  other;  but  1  always 
ppose  all  my  best-laid 
;ity  of  human  nature, 
1  the  ease  !" 
^rendell,  "now  that  I 
vnxious  to  separate  us 

"r !"  she  replied,  laying 

;er  you  a  soi  of  silver 
1  twelve  months." 
Ideaue,  gayly. 
nsked  her  opponent, 
•eet  you,"  ri'turned  Al- 
very'badly." 
^^rthur,  eominu;  toward 
truggUng  in  his  arms, 
10  had  been  an  infaut, 
use." 

iuthrie  put  me  down! 
cried  Jessie. 

you're  a  pretty  fellow 
"replied  ilr.  Arendell, 
"  Where  did  he  catch 

arbor  you  all  pretend 
s  the  dreariest  place  on 


A  LDEA  N  E. 


3!tl 


the  whole  plantation !  [  was  going  by  there  and  saw 
•Mr.  iM-ans  standhig  in  it;  I  was  frightened,  and  stopp-d 
lor  a  moment,  and  ^U:  (iuthriecame  up  an<l  eau-ht  nu- 
I  tohl  him  u  wasn't  fair,  when  Iu>  did  it.  Uli !  dear,  I  am 
so  tired  !"  and  she  sat  down  upon  the  stejjs,  we.irily. 

Aldeane  called  to  a  servant  to  brin<r  some  wateV  an.l 
giving  a  glass  to  Jessie,  said  :  "  Come,  little  one,  it  is'tim.. 
lor  you  to  be  in  bed;  1  am  tired  myself,  and  know  that 
you  must  be." 

"  Why,  Aldeane,  you  arc  not  goini;  to  retire  so  early  '" 
exclaimed  Arthur.    "It  is  not  yet  (piite  ten  o'clock." 

"  Nevertheless,  you  gentlemen  must  permit  me  to  cro 
I  know  Jessie  would  be  frightened  alone  in  th.at  sTiU 
chamber." 

"  Let  Amelia  stay  with  her." 

Aldeane  shook  her  head.  "  That  is  against  my  creed, 
Art^hur.  I  want  Jessie  to  dismiss  her  waiting-maid  at 
night,  they  need  better  rest  than  a  pallet  on  the  floor 
affords." 

"A  Yankee,  every  inch!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Arendell 
laughing.  ' 

''  Xo,  the  daughter  of  a  true  Southerner !"  she  returned 
"  Come,  Jessie,  I  believe  you  are  almost  asleep  now  " 

She  very  willingly  said  "good-night!"  and  followed 
Aldeane  up-stairs,  and  although  she  shrank  back  at  sight 
oi  the  high,  old-tashioned  bed,  she  was  soon  sleepincr^  as 
calmly  on  it  as  if  in  her  own  little  cot  at  home. 

Aldeane  drew  forth  the  little  chah-  from  the  window 
recess  and  placing  her  desk  upon  a  low  table,  seated  her- 
self before  it  and  began  to  write.  A  long  letter  to  Belle, 
such  as  she  used  to  write  when  she  first  came  South' 
but  for  which,  since  trouble  and  care  had  come,  she  had 
had  neither  time  nor  inclination,  was  the  result.  When 
she  had  completed  it,  she  went  to  the  window  to  catch  a 
breath  of  the  cool  air  of  midnight.  She  saw  the  dim 
outlines  of  the  figures  of  two  gentlemen  upon  the  piazza, 


802 


A  LDEANE. 


and  \\\v  ciimson  io^s  of  tln-ir  cii^'ars,  and  heard  the  faint 
hnm  of  vok'fs. 

"Tobacco— how  potent  is  thine  inlhience  !  how  power- 
ful over  the  minds  of  men  !"  she  murni\ired,  Hmilini: 
quietly.  "  Ah,  tliey  are  talkint,'  of  me  !"  She  bent  for- 
ward'and  discovered  that  .Mr.  Ashton  and  her  father 
were  alone. 

"  I  am  certain  he  loved  her !"  said  tin  former. 

"  And  do  you  think  that  he  does,  still  V"  asked  Mr. 

Arendill. 

"  Most  assuredly  !     Beauty  and  wealth  Reek  to  dazzle 
him  in  vain  !     He  still  loves,  and  is  waiting  for  Aldeane !" 
Aldeane  closed  the  blinds,  and  sank  upon  a  chair,  not 
waiting,  or  even  wishing,  to  hear  more. 

"  Loving,  and  waiting  !  loving,  and  M-aiting,  as  I  have 
been  ibr  years!"  she  m-'rmured.  "Thank  God  I  he  is 
loving  and  waiting — faithlul  still !" 

She  heard  the  two  chairs  on  the  piazza  pushed  back 
hastily,  and  the  door  ch)sed  loudly  as  the  gentlemen 
entered  the  house.  Mr.  Ashton  went  into  the  room 
allotted  to  him,  and  her  father  to  the  library,  where  she 
heard  him  for  some  time  pacing  the  floor  heavily.  She 
listened,  hoping  to  hear  him  cease,  but  at  last  half-terri- 
fied by  the  strange  thoughts  that  crowded  her  mind,  she 
gathered  her  white  dressing  robe  around  lier,  and  ran 
lightly  down  the  stairs,  and  opened  the  library  door. 
Her  father  turned  quickly  as  she  entered. 

"  Child !  what  is  the  matter  ?"  he  exclaimed,  "  how 
wild  and  spcctcr-like  you'look.  Are  you  frightened  at 
being  alone  in  this  old  house?"  He  folded  her  in  his 
arms,  kissing  her  tenderly. 

"  Ko,  no  !"  she  replied,  "but  it  made  me  feel  so  sad  to 
hear  you  keeping  your  lone  vigil,  here  in  the  darkness  ! 
Will  you  not  try  to  rest?     I  know  you  are  weary  !" 

"  Child,  I  am'strong  to-night,"  he  answered  dreamily. 
"  For  years  I  have  been  wear\  of  life ;  now  I  can  look 


t 
t 
t 
t 
i 

i: 
r 
c 

d 
h 
a 

v 
U 


rs, 


aiifl  heard  the  faint 


iiilhicnco !  how  ])owi'r- 
ic  mnrmim'd,  smilinu' 
if  ino  !"  She  bout  for- 
Vshton  and  her  father 

lid  th<  former. 

loes,  still  V"  asked  Mr. 

1  wealth  seek  to  dazzle 
s  waiting  for  Aldeaue !" 
sank  upon  a  chair,  uot 
more. 

and  waiting,  as  I  have 
"Thank  God!   he  is 

!" 

:]ie  piazza  pushed  back 
idly  as  the  gentlemen 
I  Avent  into  the  room 
I  the  library,  where  she 

the  floor  heavily.  She 
?e,  but  at  last  half-terri- 

crowded  her  mind,  she 
30  around  her,  and  ran 
)encd  the  library  door. 

entered. 

'"  he  exclaimed,  "  how 

Are  you  frightened  at 
'     He  folded  her  in  his 

t  made  me  feel  so  sad  to 
il,  here  in  the  darkness  ! 
nv  you  are  weary  !" 
'  he  answered  dronmily, 
of  life ;  now  I  can  look 


A  L/U:'.\  A  /;. 


;30;j 


forward  to  enjoying  the  reniiiaiit  of  my  days.  Your 
mcther  has  been  witli  mo  to-night.  I  soo  horovorv where. 
Slio  haunts  (irassinoro !" 

Aldoano  glanced  around  a  litlh'  foarfiilly,  oiinging  still 
closer  to  her  fHtlior. 

"  Xot  in  bodily  form  does  she  eonu',  Aldeaue.  She  is 
hcro,^  heiv  in  my  heart  !     Ah  !  my  wife  !  n.y  ang.  1  wife  !" 

"Strive  to  bo  liappy  without  iior  !"'  murmured  Aldouno. 
"lionu'mbor  that  1— her  daughter,  and  vours~am  with 
you." 

"  I  do  remember  it,  ami  the  knowlo-lgo  fills  my  heart 
with  joy,  but  can  ever  a  daughter's  love  {ill  the  p'laoe  of 
such  innocenco  and  beauty  as  this?" 

Ho  drew  her  beneath  the  lamp  suspended  from  the 
center  of  the  room,  took  from  his  bosom  a  small  minia- 
ture, attaehod  to  a  hair  chain,  ami  gazing  at  it  a  moment 
almost  reverently,  j)laoed  it  in  liis  daughter's  liand. 

By  the  pale  light  of  the  single  lamp,  Aldeaue  behold 
the  portrait  of  her  mother.  A  face  beaming  with  every 
tint  of  health  and  beauty,  and  with  a  rarely  sweet 
e-vprossion,  looked  forth  from  a  mass  of  golden  curls,  the 
truthful  blue  eyes  seemed  to  look  steadily  and  lovingly 
into  those  bending  over  her. 

"Beautiful!  motlier!"  sobbed  Aldeaue,  and  with  a 
gush  of  tears  she  laid  her  head  upon  her  father's  bosom 
murmuring  :  '^  I  can  comprehend  your  loss  now.  But, 
remember  that  she  is  with  the  angels  watching  our 
career  wi^.h  anxious  gaze.     Let  us  strive  to  join  her." 

^r.  Arendell  kissed  lier  tended}'.  "Go,  now,  mv 
daughter,"  he  said.  •'  I  feel  bettor  for  having  spoken  of 
her.  I  can  sleep  now,  and  you  must  also,  your  eyelids 
are  drooping  sadly." 

Aldeaue  kissed  him  again,  and  with  liis  silent,  Imt  fer- 
vent blessing  resting  upon  her,  went  up-stairs  as  noise- 
lessly as  she  had  descended. 

Total  silence  soon  after  brooded  over  Grassmere. 

17* 


394 


A  LDEANE. 


Lato  on  Sunday  af'tcni xtn,  Mr.  Ashtoii,  Mr.  Evans,  and 
Arthur,  k'ft  (irassmoro  t)  go  to  ^Vrcndi'll  House,  in  ordir 
to  take  till'  stagi'  at  I.oriPij  oarly  tlu'  following  day. 

"Poor  Arthur  I"  said  Mr.  Ashtoii,  laughing,  as  they 
stepped  into  the  earriage.  "lie  iiasn't  Keen  his  wile  for 
agi's.  Dreadful !  is.i'i,  it  ?  I  wish  I  could  hire  a  ])air  of 
wings  for  liim  soine\sdiere.  I  would  invite  you  l)oMi  to 
my  wedding,  but  I  know  you  won't  comi'.  But  T  give 
yo'i  a  »ianding  and  staying  invitation,  to  visit  us  when 
you  eome  North.  Don  t  let  it  be  long  before  you  come, 
either !" 

]Mr.  Evans  bowed  low  over  Aldeane's  hand  at  parting, 
looked  at  her  sorrowfully  a  moment,  then  stepped  into 
tlie  carriage,  and  it  was  driven  rapidly  away.  She  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  white  handkerchief  Ibittering  from  the 
window,  answered  it  by  a  wave  of  her  liand,  and  the 
next  moment  the  party  were  out  of  sight. 

During  the  fall  and  winter,  the  time  passed  rapidly  and 
pleasantly  at  (Irassmore.  Aldeano  was  fully  employed 
in  her  housekeeping  duties,  and  in  teaching  Jessie,  v.iio 
remained  with  her.  She  went  home  several  times,  and 
stayed  a  few  days,  but  was  always  glad  to  return  to  hti," 
studies,  and  Aldeane's  pleasant  society. 

vVldeane  had  once  gone  with  lier  father  to  the  cemetery 
at  Linden,  a  village  some  iaw  miles  distant,  .vlivre  a 
marble  shall  arising  from  the  midst  of  profuse  shrub- 
l)cry  distinguished  her  mother's  grave  frorfi  the  numbers 
around  it.  She  fulfilled  th«  sad,  yet  pleasing  duty  of 
planting  flowers  upon  the  grass-covered  mound,  and 
returned  home,  saddened  by  her  visit,  yet  happy  in  ihe 
thought  that  her  uncle  had  not  suffered  her  mother  to 
rest  in  an  unmarked  grave. 

As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  Aldeane  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  William  Arendeli,  she  was  invited  most  urgently 
into  society,  being  mostly  co"rted  by  those  who  had 
slighted  her  when   she  was  simply   a  governess.      She 


ALT)  EA  S  E. 


895 


ishtoii,  'S\y.  Evan-i,  .ind 
cndi'll  House,  in  order 
ho  followiii;;  day. 
on,  hiULtliinur,  us  they 
asn't  scon  liis  wit'o  for 
I  oonld  liiro  a  j)air  of 
d  invito  yon  boMi  to 

Vi   COmo.       lint    J    rrjvo 

tion,  to  visit  ns  when 
<in<^  before  yon  come, 

ane's  hand  at  j)artins, 
■nt,  then  stepped  into 
lly  away.  She  caui^ht 
'{'  tbittcrinuf  from  the 
of  lier  liand,  and  the 
f  siyht. 

me  ])assed  rapidly  and 
e  was  fully  employe<l 
I  teaehing  Jessie,  v.  iio 
me  several  times,  and 

glad  to  return  to  \v:: 
!iety. 

father  to  the  cemetery 
liles  distant,  .vlivre  a 
dst  of  profuse  shrub- 
•ave  froifi  the  numbers 
yet  pleasing  duty  of 
-covered  mound,  and 

isit,  yet  happy  in  the 
uffered  her  mother  to 

Ideane  was  the  daugh- 
invited  most  urgently 
'd  by  those  who  had 
ly   a  yoverncss.      She 


accepted  the  invitations  of  those  only  who  lia<l  always 
been  her  friends,  and  thus  passed  an  almost  secluded  life 
witliin  tile  |>re'.-in<'ts  of  (Jrassmere.  J^eftcrs  fn.m  the 
North  bore  the  glad  tidings  of  Artlinr's  prosperity.  .Mr. 
Ashton  was  married,  and  it  wai^  rumored  that  3Ir!  Evans 
and  (Jertrude  liemsen  were  aliont  <o  Uk  Alde.'itie  re- 
joiced :it  this,  and  hoped  that  th.  y  w:)nld  be  united 
Ixlbre  she  went  North, for  -wliich  the  appointed  time  was 
rapidly  a|i|.ro:u'hing.  The  bonntifnl  spring  days  had 
come.  All  the  negroes  that  chose  to  have  ha<l  been  sent 
to  good  homes  i)repared  for  tliem.  Colonel  Arendell  had 
taken  formal  i)ossession  of  (trassniere,  ar.d  lu^thing  re- 
mained for  Aldeane  to  <lo  but  to  bid  it  i'arewell  and  go  to 
Arendell  IIous<>.  where  she  was  to  remain  for  a  few'^lays 
l)revious  to  her  departure  i'or  the  North. 

This,  to  her,  was  no  very  grievous  task,  but  her  father 
felt  it  bitterly.  Each  nook  and  corner  of  tlie  old  i.hice 
was  dear  to  him.  Some  Aveeks  before  he  left  he  tenderiy 
transplanted  a  root  of  the  trum|)et-vine,  intendintr,  if  pos- 
sil.  ■,  to  cultivate  it  at  the  North.  He  took  it  from  what 
was,  t  )  him,  hallowed  ground,  and  cherished  it  as  hi.s 
dearest  treasure.  Aldeane  carefully  packed  many  of  tlu^ 
drawings  that  her  mother  had  oxe-Mted,  looking  upon 
them  as  dear  relics  of  the  jiast. 

Frank  and  Eddie  had  returned  lionie  for  the  sprisig  \  a- 
cation,  and  on  the  last  evening  of  Aldeane's  stay  ^!iey 
went  Avith  lier  to  Loring  to  visit  Leonori'''s  grave.  A  few 
early  tlowers  were  lifting  their  tiny  heads  Tbove  it.  Al- 
deane gathered  a  iiyvf,  and,  with  periwinkle  and  cypress, 
Avove  a  chaplet,  which  she  Inmg  upon  the  monuinent  as 
a  last  token  of  her  unceasing  grief  and  love. 

She  looked  with  new  interest  upon  Raymond's  grave. 
Her  fati.cr,  she  knew,  had  been  there,  for' on  the  side  of 
the  tablet  was  written  in  pencil  in  his  hand,  "  Out  of  the 
depths  hast  Tli'><t  called  his  spirit." 

She  left  the  quiet  grave-yard,  feeling  that  it  was,  per- 


300 


A  LDEA  yR. 


haps,  tlio  Inst  time  hIic  nliould  <vtr  tivail  within  itw  hal- 
lowed ])rfcincts.  Slu-  li:i«l  liii,L;irc<l  so  loiii;  lliiit  tlic  er.iy 
lijjjlit  ot'i'Vinini,'  was  ln-oudiiiii  tivc-r  the  cartli,  lialt'  hidiii'^ 
ovi'i-y  oltjitl  ill  its  iiiisly  lulds,  cro  sho  reached  Areiidell 
House.  Mrs.  Areiidell  met  her  at  the  garden  gate,  and 
hurried  her  into  tlie  house  to  dress  (or  the  eoinpaiiy  that 
was  to  meet  her  lor  the  last  time. 

A  farewell  party  always  possesses  somo  elements  of 
gloom.  Sighs  unhidden  will  often  mingle  with  tiie  gay- 
est strains  of  music  or  liuighter,  and  cheek  the  gay  repar- 
tee. So  was  it  at  this  time.  Mrs.  Aremlell  had  boon 
very  carifnl  in  the  selectitni  of  her  guests.  None  hut 
those  who  had  always  treated  Aldi'ane  with  kindness 
were  invited,  and  with  many  she  felt  truly  sorry  to  part. 
It  was  ihe  hrst  time  that  tiie  parlor  had  heei,  tilled  with 
comi)any  since  Leonore's  death,  and  all  seemed  to  remem- 
ber it,  for  the  voices  were  subdued,  and  mary  mentioned 
her.  Aa  an  early  hour  the  guests  took  th  'ir  departure, 
leaving  the  family  to  the  quiet  enjoy meit  of  the  last 
hours  of  the  nigiit.  One  o'clock  had  just  struck  when 
Aldeane  retired,  not  to  sleep,  but  to  weep  bitterly  at  the 
thought  that  she  was  about  to  leave,  perhai)s  forever,  a 
heme  that  she  loved  so  dearly  from  the  very  sorrows  con- 
nected with  it. 


r  ticiul  witliin  itH  hal- 
so  Itnii;  tliiit  the  er.'iy 

■  the  ciirtli,  liiilt'  liidiiiL; 
shi!  readied  An-iulell 
the  panlcii  jiatc,  and 
for  the  ouiupaiiy  that 

scs  Homo  clcineuts  ot" 
I  ininitU'  witli  tlie  gay- 
d  I'liirk  the  yay  repar- 
rs.  Ari'iidfli  had  boon 
cr  tX'H'sts.  iS'oni'  l>ut 
Lldt'aiif  witli  kiiidiR'SS 
I'lt  truly  sorry  to  part. 
;)r  had  ln't'i.  lillod  willi 

I  all  seeiiu'd  to  rcmoiii- 
,  and  niary  mentioned 
8  took  th  'ir  departure, 
enjoy  me  it  of  the  last 

had  just  struck  when 
to  weep  bitterly  at  the 
ave,  perhai)s  forever,  a 

II  the  very  sorrows  con- 


CHAPTER   XXXVITI. 

COXCI.l'SIOX, 

Axn  the  week  later  she  was  the  mistress  of  a  seeond 
(irassmere,  wiii<'h  was  situated  midway  b»fween  Kose 
(.'ottage  and  Hoston,  and  was,  as  far  as  moderate  wealtli 
and  rare  tastes  eould  make  it,  a  model  of  eli'ganee.  .Mr. 
Arendell's  sole  care  was  to  piaee  his  dauiihter  in  a  homo 
worthy  of  her,  thoU!,'h  he  eontended  that  sueli  a  one 
eould  ni'ver  be  jjjained,  and  lau^'hinirjy  feared  that  how- 
ever eharmin-i  mi<,'lit  be  the  nest  he  should  make  for  her, 
she  would  tlif  to  another. 

To  this  Aldeane  made  no  rejdy.  How  could  she,  when 
she  remembered  with  what  unacknowledged  hopi-s  she  had 
hastened  North  '<  when  she  remembered  one  welc^ome  she 
had  expected  and  received  not— still  received  not,  though 
long  weeks  had  j.assed  by  and  she  had  grown  lieartsick 
with  ''lioi)e  deferred?"  She  could  not,  strive  as  she 
would,  forget  tluit  Frederic  Morgan  was  frees  to  seek  her, 
that  he  had  once  told  Ju'r  that  he  loved  lier.  And  now% 
now  he  came  not,  nor  sent  one  word  of  welcome  or  con- 
gratulation. His  mother,  indeed,  had  come,  but  her  visit 
had  only  deepened  Aldeane's  disappointment— a  disap- 
pointnu'nt  which  she  blushed  to  own,  yet  over  which  she 
shed  many  bitter  tears. 

The  season  was  very  gay,  and  introduced  by  Mrs.  Ash- 
ton,  she  went  everywhere,  and  more,  perhaf  s,  from  the 
romantic  story  attached  to  her  than  from  her  beauty,  she 
became  an  acknowledged  belle,  and  the  life  '.uid  pride  of 
her  circle.     She  everywhere  heard  of  Doctor  .Morgan,  for 


398 


A  LDh:AXE. 


lie  hail  paiiu'il  ii  loonl  n-putation  in  liU  profi-Msion.  Hut 
it  h.'ul  Nci'ini'.l  tilted  tli;il  tlicy  siioulil  imt  inict,  fur  many 
tiiufH  mIu-  liiid  iiitiTid  IJi'IIc'h  iiousc  a  I'l-w  iii<iiiu'nt>4  at)«'i" 
lie  iia<l  Ifll  it,  and  more  than  onee  he  had  dioppi-d  in  for 
an  instant  at  an  cvenini^  party  just  before  her  c  iitranee 
ur  after  her  departure. 

I'lidouhtedly  nlie  was  picpied  as  well  as  j,'rievod  by  his 
Htranjjfe  conduct  toward  her,  hut  the  former  was  the  only 
feelinsjj  slie  alhtwed  to  escape  her,  even  to  HelU',  wlio  now, 
in  ail  the  dii,Miity  of  maternity  adiled  to  wifehood,  ami 
with  the  prudence  of  an  ehlerly  match-maker,  catechised 
Aldeane  upon  the  advantatjes  or  disadvanla.<,'i's  to  he 
jjained  liy  tiie  encouraiieinent  of  her  numerous  admirers, 
and  shrew. Uy  fei>j:ned  to  i^'iiore  the  knowledge  upon 
which,  to  Artiiur,  she  had  lon;4  plumed  herself,  and  upon 
which  was  still  founded  the  dearest  wish  of  iier  heart; 
for,  as  she  truly  said,  she  had  now  no  cares  of  Arthur's 
to  perplex  her,  as  his  success  in  his  profession  since  the 
exjtosure  and  death  of  his  old  •■nemy,  had  lieen  unparal- 
leled, and  now  bade  fair  to  make  him  in  time  a  wealthy 
man,  e\-t'n  thousjch  he  should  discard  any  other  fortune 
that  mi;4ht  fall  to  him,  as  he  had  done  that  of  his  unwor- 
thy step-father,  which  he  had  sutVered  to  enrich  a  score 
of  poor  relations  who  had  discarded  .lonas  Davis  years 
before,  but  who,  at  the  cry  of  <,'old,  sprang  into  being  to 
own  themselves  his  nearest,  dearest  kin. 

And  so,  Arthur  being  "  oil' her  mind,"  Belle  must  needs 
♦'take  Aldeane  on,"  ami  Frederic  Morgan  too,  of  whom 
she  saw  much,  and  could  satisfy  herself  but  little.  She 
talked  to  him  in  the  seviM-est  manner  of  his  neglect  of 
his  old  friend,  but  could  gain  nothing  from  him  but 
that  his  time  was  much  occupied,  that  he  had  uo  time  for 
formal  calls,  and  othei  excuses  of  a  like  nature,  always 
ending  with  the  dech  .  tion,  that  he  siiould  call  soon, 
very  soon. 

And  BO  Belle,  who  conjectured  every  thing,  and  said 


liU  profi'Hsion.  Hut 
I  not  iiicci,  fill-  iiciny 

a  I'l-w  inuiiu'iits  altiT 
w.  hail  (lii)|>|K'(l  ill  lor 
:  lu'loii'  licr  ciilnuu'o 

roll  as  j{rievc(l  by  his 
'  t'oniu'r  was  llu'  only 
■n  to  iJi'lli',  wlio  now, 
o<l  to  wifi'hooil,  ami 
tcli-makcr,  caticlnHcil 
(lisailvanlam's  lo  !)»■ 
r  nuimioiis  ailniirtTH, 
hv  knowloiliif  upon 
ui'il  hcrsi'W,  ami  upon 
It  winli  of  luT  lu'art  ; 
no  cari'»  of  Arlliur's 
I  profi'ssion  since  thf 
ly,  liad  Ihhu  unparal- 
im  in  time  a  wealthy 
ril  any  other  fortune 
)ne  that  of  his  unwor- 
red  to  enrich  a  Hoorc 
■I I  .lonas  Davis  years 

sprang  inl«)  being  to 

kin. 

lul,"  Helle  must  needs 
dorgan  too,  of  whom 
?r8elf  but  little.  She 
ner  of  his  neglect  of 
)tiung  from  him  but 
lat  he  had  uo  time  for 
a  like  nature,  always 

he  Hliould  call  soon, 

every  thing,  and  said 


ALDRA  ^E 


noo 


even  more  thnn  prudem-e  dictated,  oflTeoted  nothing,  while 
in  course  of  time  one  who  conjectured  comparatively 
little,  chanced  to  nay  the  v.-ry  words  which  she  had  l.,,,, 
seeking  in  vain. 

The  ,vinler  had  unmist.ikably  begun  his  reign,  although 
it  was  y.t  varly  in  Noveml),.r,'wlu.n  o|ie  dav  Mr.  .Ashion 
and  his  wife  sat  in  their  comfortaide  sleigh  "being  rapidly 
driven  toward  (Jrassmere,  there  to  celebrate  tliel.irthdav 
of  My.  .\rendell.  ' 

"My  dear,"  remarked  Mrs.  Ashton,  in  a  pause  made  by 
her  husband  in  an  earnest  eulogy  of  his  friend,  "have 
you  nniiecd  how  pale  and  restless,  if  not  absolutely  ill, 
Aldeane  has  appeared  lately.  I  ivally  fear  she  has  some 
secret  trouble  preying  u|ion  her  mind." 

"Nonsense,"  rclnrmd  Mr.  Ashton.  "I  am  sure  sho 
looked  the  very  pink  of  health  and  beauty  the  last  time 
I  saw  her.  I  think  (Jertie's  woes  before  Charley  owned 
himself  a  captive,  have  niad<'  you  a  little  seniinmiital." 
And  Mr.  Ashton  laughing  heartily, dismissed  the  subject, 
and  the  ne.vt  moment,  e.vclaimed': — 

"  Why  there's  Morgan  upon  his  splendid  bay.  That 
fellow  lives  on  hor.H'b.ack,  I  believe.  Hullo,  doctor,  wh(>re 
are  you  goiifg,  now  V" 

The  young  doctor  drew  rein,  and  saluted  Mrs.  Ashton 
and  his  old  friend,  coloring  somewhat,  as  the  latter 
exclaimed :— "  And  you  don't  look  well  either  !  What  is 
the  matter  with  i/an/" 

"  Oh,  nothing,  nothing,"  he  muttered,  confusedly.  "I 
have  been  working  a  little  harder  than  usual,  latelv.  I 
believe."  '  ^ ' 

"Then,  I  should  advise  you  to  take  a  little  rest,"  said 
Mr.  Ashton,  gayly ;  "  we  will  not  allow  you  to  be  a  slave, 
or  a  recluse  any  longer.  Of  course.  Belle  has  told  you^ 
that  you  will  be  evpected  at  the  wedding.  Charley  lias 
always  declared  ho  wouldn't  be  married  without'  you 
wore  ut  hand." 


400 


ALDEANE. 


"  I — T  (lid  not  understand — Mrs.  Guthrie  has  told  me 
nothing,"  faltered  Doctor  ^Morgan,  turning  very  pale. 
"Char — Charley  will  certainly  excuse  me — I — T." 

"Well,  if  Ciiarley  will,  Gertie  certainly  will  not," 
interrupted  ]Mr.  Ashton. 

"  Gertie !"  gasped  Dr.  ^Morgan,  as  if  in  the  greatest 
surprise,  and  actually  springing  from  his  horse  to  grasp 
Mr.  Ashton's  hand,  and  sinking  into  tlio  deep  snow  with- 
out ap])earing  to  mind  it  in  the  least.  "  Is  it  Gertie 
Kcmsen  that  is  to  be  married  to  Charley  Evans  ?" 

"  I  hope,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton,  with  much  stateliness, 
"that  you  Avere  not  misled  hy  an  absurd  rumor  that  was 
for  a  little  time  afloat.  ^ly  dear,  "Sir.  Ashton,  what  are 
you  laughing  at  ?  I  assure  you  I  consider  this  very 
annoying,  indeed." 

But  Mr.  Ashton,  who  had  throAvn  himself  back  in  his 
sleigli  in  a  paroxysm  of  laughter,  laughed  louder  than 
before,  and  with  infinitely  more  enjoyment  as  he  saw 
Doctor  Morgan,  without  a  word  more,  vault  into  his 
saddle,  and  ride  at  the  greatest  speed  of  the  splendid 
bay,  in  the  direction  of  (irassmere. 

Of  all  the  days  tnat  Aldeane  had  passed  there,  she  was 
expecting  him  Ictist  upon  this,  for  her  mind  was  occupied 
by  the  responsibility  of  properly  receiving  and  enter- 
taining a  large  party  which  were  to  meet  at  dinner  a 
few  hours  later. 

Arthur,  Belle,  and  (according  to  the  declarations  of 
both,  an(l  the  belief  of  Aldeane)  the  most  wonderful 
baby  that  ever  was  born,  were  already  there,  Arthur, 
with  jMr.  Arendell  in  the  library,  and  Belle  in  an  up- 
per room  where  Aldeane  had  left  her,  in  order  to  give 
one  glance  at  the  drawing-rooms  before  the  company 
should  arrive,  when  a  ring  at  the  bell  startled  her,  and  a 
minute  later  the  sound  of  her  own  name  uttered  in  a 
voice  she  well  remembered,  caused  her  to  sink  upon  a 
chair,  pale  and  breathless,  as  the  drawing-room  door  was 


Guthrie  has  toM  me 
1,  turniiii;   very  palo. 
use  me — I — T." 
certainly  will   not," 

as  if  in  the  greatest 
nn  his  horse  to  grasp 
,0  tlio  deep  snow  with- 
least.  "Is  it  Gertie 
larley  Evans  V" 
with  much  stateliness, 
bsunl  rumor  that  was 
Mr.  Ashton,  what  are 
I  consider   this   very 

vi\  himself  back  in  his 
,  laughed  louder  than 
enjoyment  as  he  saw 
more,  vault  into  his 
speed  of  the  splendid 

I  passed  there,  she  was 

her  mind  was  occupied 

receiving  and  enter- 

i  to  meet  at  dinner  a 

o  the  declarations  of 
)  the  most  Avonderful 
ilready  there,  Arthur, 
,  and  Belle  in  an  up- 
her,  in  order  to  give 
!  before  the  company 
jell  startled  her,  and  a 
vn  name  uttered  in  a 
d  her  to  sink,  upon  a 
irawing-room  door  was 


ALDEAXE. 


401 


thrown   open,  and    Frederic   Morgan   hastily  advanced 
toward  licr. 

She  endeavored  to  rise  and  greet  him  calmly,  but  if  alf 
her  future  happiness  had  depended  upon  it,  she  could  not 
liave  done  so.  Fortunately  the  lack  of  ceremony  served 
only  to  her  advantage,  for  Frederic  Morgan  saw  at  once 
that  there  was  no  need  of  words,  save  those  in  which  ho 
explained  his  lato  conduct.  "  I  heard  you  Avere  engaged 
to  Evans,  and  dared  not  come  !"  and  with  an  outburst 
of  triumphant  love  and  joy,  clasped  her  in  his  arms. 

How  very  soon  afterward  the  company  began  to 
arrive.  First,  there  were  Mr.  atid  Mrs.  Ashton,  full  of 
signiticance  and  mystery,  and  pretending,  like  Belle  and 
Arthur,  to  have  no  idea  of  Avhat  had  occurred,  and  kindly 
combining  to  keej)  any  thought  of  it  from  ]VIr.  Arendell 
until  all  could  be  fully  explained  ;  also  Charles  Evans  and 
his  very  lovely /a/*m',  neither  of  whom  appeared  to 
attach  any  i)articular  importance  to  the  conjectures 
whispered  by  JNIrs.  Ashton  ;  and  besides  these,  a  host  of 
acquaintances ;  more  than  one  of  whom  noticed  the 
agitation  neither  could  entirely  conceal,  and  opined  that 
Doctor  ^Morgan  and  Miss  Arendell  would  make  a  "  mag- 
nificent couple." 

..tVnd  a  few  months  aftei-,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles 
Evans  were  spoken  of  as  the  happiest  of  married  folks, 
Doctor  Morgan  and  Miss  Arendell  did  indeed  make  the 
"  magnificent  couple"  that  had  been  prophesied  of.  There 
was  a  quiet  wedding,  with  but  few  to  witness  it.  But 
those  few  were  the  dearest  aiul  best :  Colonel  and  Mrs. 
Arendell,  with  their  family ;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Guthrie,  good 
i\[r.  Ashton  and  his  Avife,  witli  Charles  Evans  and  his 
young  bride,  with  a  few  others  whose  friendship  had 
brightened  Aldeane's  life  when  she  was  a  poor  governess, 
as  gladly  as  when  she  was  the  heiress  of  William 
Arendell,  and  the  bride  of  that  most  popular  of  physi- 
cians, Frederic  Morgan. 


402 


ALDEAyrE. 


"  Ikly  love,"  he  said,  as  they  sat  together,  in  the  rlrawiiig- 
rooin,  upon  the  night  ho  look  hor  to  her  liome ;  "  my  love, 
thi?  reniinfls  me  of  the  eonversation  I  held  with  Annie 
upon  this  very  spot,  so  long  ago  ;  and  I  think,  my  darling, 
it  is  here  she  would  like  you  to  read  a  little  note  she  left 
for  me  to  give  tlic  woman  of  my  love  if  she  should  ever 
be  my  wife.  I  know,  my  own,  you  have  in  your  heart 
naught  but  kindness  for  her  memory,  and  will  gently 
judge  what  she  has  written  liere." 

lie  plated  a  tiny  note  in  her  hand,  andAVould  have  left 
her,  but  slie  elasped  his  hand  and  bade  him  stay,  and 
with  his  arm  around  her,  she  read  the  message  of  his  fn>t 
wife.  The  very  paper  it  was  written  on — so  tiny  and 
delicately  tinted — was  characteristic  of  Annie  Greyson 
no  less  than  the  i\i\f  quaintly  written  words. 

"  My  dear,"  it  began,  "  1  do  not  know  your  name,  but 
I  mean  this  for  the  lady  Frederic  loves,  and  whom  I  am 
sure  he  will  marry  wlien  I  am  gone.  I  feel  now  as  if  I 
had  done  wrong  ever  to  8ei)arate  you,  but  I  didn't  like  to 
be  laughed  at,  and  I  was  sure  Fred  would  make  me 
happy,  and  I  was  over  twenty,  and  didn't  like  the  idea  of 
remaining  single  all  my  life.  I'm  sure  you  will  forgive 
me.  Won't  you  ?  And  I  do  hope  that  both  you  and  Fred 
will  think  kindly  of  her  who,  when  you  read  this,  will  be 
poor,  dead  Annie." 

Aldeane  sobbed  heartily  over  this  quaint  little  note, 
and  Frederic  Morgan,  while  he  endeavored  to  soothe  her, 
thouglit  with  tender  pity  of  her  whom  he  had  once  almost 
hated,  and  Aldeane,  knowin'g  this,  was  glad  he  had  not 
seen  the  postscript  which  was  written  on  another  page, 
and  afterward  met  lier  eye,  and  which  in  spite  of  her  will 
recalled  to  her  mind  the  olden  feeling  of  pitying  con- 
tempt. "My  dear,"  this  said,  "  if  you  are  fair,  have  the 
drawing-room  curtains  changed  by  all  means.  1  found  that 
lieavv  green  very  trying,  and  should  recommend  light 
blue." 


E. 


ogcthcr,  in  the  drawiiig- 


0  her  home ;  "  my  love, 
tion  I  hcUl  with  Annies 
and  I  think,  ray  darling, 
I'ud  a  litth?  note  shi-  h'il 

love  if  slie  should  ever 
ou  have  in  your  heart 
cmory,  and  will   gently 

n 

nd,  and  would  have  left 
nd  bade  him  stay,  and 

1  the  message  of  his  tirwt 
ritten  on — so  tiny  and 
Stic  of  Annie  Greyson 
tten  words. 

)t  know  your  name,  but 
!  loves,  and  whom  I  am 
fone.  I  feel  now  as  if  I ' 
you,  but  I  didn't  like  to 
'  Fred  Avould  make  me 
d  didn't  like  the  idea  of 
n  sure  you  will  forgive 
!  that  both  you  and  Fred 
en  you  read  this,  will  be 

Anxik." 
this  quaint  little  note, 
ideavored  to  soothe  her, 
^hora  he  had  once  almost 
is,  was  glad  he  liad  not 
ritten  on  another  page, 
ihich  in  spite  of  her  will 
feeling  of  pitying  cou- 
if  you  are  fair,  have  the 
y  all  means.  I  found  that 
hould  recommend  light 


A  IDE  AN  E. 


403 


Aldeane  lives  at  Morganvale  still— a  happy  Avife  and 
motluT,  lieantiful  even  now  in  the  eyes  of  her  lond  hus- 
band, and  father,  and  those  of  a  score  of  loving  friends, 
even  though  she  receives  them  Iwueath  tiie  shadow  of  the 
green  curtains.  And  still  the  Pe.icemaker,  she  is  beloved 
by  rich  and  poor  throughout  the  neighborhood  which 
deems  itself  blessed  by  the  kindness  and  skill  of  the  good 
doctor. 


THK   END. 


*.(. 


ti 


?1 


81 


